


His Name Is Church

by ClockWords



Series: Chucker College AU [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Brought back the old gang bc I miss them, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Content, The Freelancers are back!, These boys have a lot to talk about, also Kai’s back too bc she’s a queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockWords/pseuds/ClockWords
Summary: “Eh, it’ll blow over. Trust me, drama gets tired of itself. It’ll settle.” He pecks Church’s forehead, that stupid smile making Church’s gut squeeze again.The sequel to His Name Is No One. You definitely need to read that before you read this. Just sayin’.
Relationships: Leonard L. Church/Lavernius Tucker
Series: Chucker College AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871137
Comments: 21
Kudos: 26





	His Name Is Church

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet god, I have a lot to say. 
> 
> For one, I need to confess. In previous works I have, I’ve mentioned I had a friend called TheDiceThrower proof-read my stuff. Well. I’m Dice. When I first started this (writing in general), I was nervous as hell. I had no real experience writing. I was just a digital artist, and I wasn’t confident enough to risk my followers on instagram knowing I wrote this stuff. But everybody’s comments (not just on His Name Is No One, but my other few works, too) have just... really boosted my confidence. Thank you to everybody who read my first MAJOR fic. 200 hits may not sound like much, but the Chucker fandom is sparse. 
> 
> I’ll have more works in the very near future :) 
> 
> Enjoy this train wreck.

It had been two days since Church received that text while seated on Tucker’s couch; warm blanket covering him and the small child sleeping against his side. 

It had been two days since Church had changed his number and cellular ID all together. 

Two days since he burned just about every bit of physical proof that he lived in the dorms of Chorus University, along with having disabling his email and creating a new one, with a  _ different _ ID system he created  _ himself.  _

It’s late into their Christmas break, with just two weeks of it left to go. 

Tucker hadn’t pressed for answers; he knew Church would eventually come to him. The morning Dr. Church came in contact with his son for the first time in 10 years, Church shut down, and just wanted to stew in his own irritation and frustration by being left alone all together. 

Which, in hindsight, wasn’t a great idea considering his current location. 

Church had let his head fall back when it happened, against the cushion of the couch. He closed his eyes, blocking out any and all sensory, trying to ground himself. 

The text only held 3 words, then his name signed at the bottom of the text. 

_ I’m coming home. _

He had felt Tucker slip a hand into his own at the time, confused but trying desperately to understand.

Church never spoke of his father, or family in general; only his sister on occasion. The mere mention of his father had him seething, teeth baring like a cat hissing a warning to an offending animal in its territory. So, Church just never brought him up; Tucker only knew he was in prison because they had drinks together, and even then Tucker didn’t learn much. 

Now, two days later, Church is finally opening up. 

The men are in Tucker’s room, Church on his back with Tucker behind him; dark, thick coal hair rests in Tucker’s lap, his legs on either side of Church’s body as he’s seated upwards with his back against the headboard. Church has stolen one of his boyfriend’s hoodies, loose on his thin frame. His head is centered against Tucker’s pelvis, eyes half-lidded as dark hands run through thick, coarse strands. Church’s hands aimlessly shove up Tucker’s shirt, drawing mindless circles on his abdomen with his angular fingers. 

They had been speaking for only a few minutes, breaking the 20 minute long silence that held before. 

“But I thought you said your pops was in prison?”

“He was,” he sighs, closing his eyes. “But it was a 10-year sentence. I just- I didn’t keep track of time. I didn’t want to. Just wanted to forget he ever happened.” 

“So… his sentence is complete? He went to prison when you were like- nine?”

Church nods, hands wandering lower to Tucker’s hip bone, sending a short shiver up Tucker’s back. “Yeah. My sister’s ten years older than me, so she was kinda the one who took care of me.” 

Tucker processed the information carefully. His hands tangle further into Church’s soft hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly as he works his fingers, to which Church nearly  _ purred.  _

“Hey, Church? You- you never told me why he went to prison. Are you-“ 

“It’s a long story. But I’ll simplify it for you, idiot.” 

Tucker couldn’t stop the smile tugging up his lip. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to tell me, asshole.” 

Church only snorts at that, pulling one knee up to a bend on the bed. 

“My family was military. Carolina enlisted without a second thought, and my mother was in the armed forces before she died. My father tried military life, but it wasn’t for him. At least, the forces weren’t. So instead, he was a scientist for them.” Tucker nodded, even though Church couldn’t see the action. “He studied bioengineering, cloning, anthropology, technology and neuroscience; fuck, if it had anything to do with the human body or tech, he studied it.” He sits up, pulling away from Tucker’s hands for a brief moment. Then, limbs rearrange. He presses his back to Tucker’s chest while sturdy arms come around easily to wrap loosely around Church’s middle. Church lays his head back against Tucker’s shoulder, closing his eyes once again. 

“He’s always been a scientist. But he didn’t  _ really  _ lose it until our mother died. That’s what Carolina told me, at least. I was too young to really remember when it started.” 

“Right, she died when you were really little didn’t she?”

Church nodded again. “Yep. I was 4 and a half. ‘Lina was 14, so she remembers mom a lot better than I do. Our father used to bury himself in his lab at home. Since we were military, we moved a  _ lot.  _ So making friends didn’t happen until Carolina was in high school. It was just me, and ‘Lina, otherwise. I didn’t really understand the problem at the time. Too young. But I remember Carolina being…  _ obsessive.  _ She  _ really  _ wanted our father’s approval.” 

Tucker winced at that; he knew that feeling all too well. He didn’t exactly strive or work harder, but he had several other methods for trying to reach approval and attention from his father and teachers (which, unfortunately for Tucker, the teachers all had his older sister, Landri, before him, and expected Tucker to be  _ just like her _ ). Lashing out and acting like an idiot was who he was for a reason. 

“Did you not do the same?” Tucker asked curiously, hands coming up to mindlessly play with the drawstrings of Church’s sweats (which he also stole from Tucker’s closet). 

A crude, harsh chuckle left Church’s lips. 

“No. I isolated myself from that bastard. I wanted nothing to do with him.” He pauses, his chaotic mind trying to decipher his next words in a flurry. 

“... I just- I didn’t want his approval. I wanted something else.” 

Tucker grew anxious, noticing Church’s change in tone. “Which was?”

“My mother,” he takes a deep breath; then, in a soft whisper, “I just wanted my mother back.” 

Church’s heart ached dully, but he forced it aside like the rest of his emotions. Church kept his face neutral, but it was definitely an effort. 

He hadn’t even told Carolina that much. 

And Tucker could sense this, too. All it once, it dawned on Tucker that he was hearing things that Church probably hasn’t ever told anyone else. 

And suddenly, Tucker realized just how much this man actually trusted him.  _ Dangerously  _ so. 

“Anyway. Back to the point of this ungodly story-“ he stops when he feels warm lips press to his cheek; firm and comforting with a touch of assurance. It was long and thoughtful, much unlike Tucker’s usual antics for physical affection. When he pulls away, Church’s face has a soft pink coloring; only to be forced away in seconds. 

“...Fucking  _ anyway,”  _

Tucker couldn’t stop his smile, just happy he could make a positive turn for the moment.

“Fuck. The point of this story. When our mother died, our father was pretty fucked up over it. Which, yeah, I don’t blame him. Carolina was, too. But he isolated himself for  _ hours.  _ And when he  _ did  _ come out, he ignored us. I didn’t fuckin’ mind. But Carolina  _ did.  _ She did a lot to gain his attention; joined every sport she could and tried to encourage me to do the same.” 

Tucker couldn’t stop the snort of short laughter that came. The thought of Church  _ ever  _ doing anything  _ athletic  _ was a hilarious concept to him, and Church picked up on this. 

“Okay, first of all  _ jackass,  _ I was fucking great at golf-“

The stifled chuckling turned into pure, uncontrolled  _ cackles.  _

__ “ _ I swear to god if you don’t let me finish this  _ fucking  _ story-“  _

He only laughs harder, his arms reflexively holding Church closer to his own body. 

“ _ Golf? _ Church, that’s fucking  _ lame.” _ He buries his face into Church’s neck, trying to stifle his laughter. 

“You’ve lost your privilege!” Church claims dramatically, pulling away to sit across from his laughing boyfriend. 

“Oh my  _ god,  _ I’m kidding!” Another grin, “Come here, I promise I’ll let you finish.” Tucker reaches over for Church, arm coming out to get a hold of a slender wrist. The pale limb pulls back dramatically like it’s been burned, Church leaning back on his hands with his legs crossed defiantly. He wore a scowl on his face, eyebrows knitted tightly to add effect. 

Of course, Tucker was immune to these displays by now. 

“Fine, then I’ll come to you.” 

“Wha-  _ Fuck oh my god Tucker-“  _

Tucker slid over like a snake, pressing Church onto his back with his own body laid out across the thin frame. Church’s legs kick out to either side of Tucker’s thighs, his boyfriend’s hands suddenly and swiftly sliding under his back to wrap around him securely. Then, Tucker rests his chin on a sturdy chest, looking up at Church with a stupid smile on his face. 

_ This asshole is gonna be the fucking death of me, oh my god.  _

“Continue.” Tucker urges, settling completely against his lover. 

Defeated, Church sighs and decides to lay his head back on the bed. After a few seconds of gathering his thoughts, his hand comes up to thread through short dreads. 

“...Carolina did a lot to get our father’s attention. I only did it for her, but I got tired of it pretty quick. Instead, I did what  _ I  _ wanted.” 

“Nerd shit?”

“Nerd shit,” Church grinned at their similar thinking as he stared up at the ceiling. “Chess, the mathematics team, calculus team, the robotics team, and number sense. I did it because I  _ enjoyed  _ it, while Carolina spent her years in high school and middle school trying to get brownie points. She didn’t know then, but she was miserable. My teachers expected something else entirely by the time I got there.” Tucker turns his head, now resting his cheek on Church’s sternum. “She was competitive as  _ hell,  _ and obliterated whoever was on the field with her.” He shook his head at the memory of her unhealthy competitive nature. 

“We kinda only saw our father when he came out to get groceries. He didn’t  _ completely  _ neglect us. Although I’m pretty sure he just fucking left to feed himself because he never brought enough home. Sometimes we’d go with him, but I would usually stay home. With his studying came really,  _ really  _ weird experiments. I’m not really sure what the hell went on in that lab; we were never allowed in. But there were a  _ lot  _ of weird fluids on his lab coat. They always seemed…  _ bodily  _ to me. Carolina didn’t really care. But it all seemed unnatural in my eyes.” 

His hand moves lower, rubbing circles at the nape of Tucker’s neck with his other hand resting behind his own head. “He was arrested for illegal use of military equipment. He used his research funding for things he wasn’t being paid for. He kinda stopped working for them on his own damn accord, and started doing whatever he wanted with his equipment. Lots of tech stuff. I remember these… these little….” His eyebrows knit in search for the right word. The hand on Tucker’s neck stops, which catches the latter’s attention. 

“Little  _ what,  _ dude?” 

“Honestly, I have no fucking clue. I almost wanna say  _ people,  _ but that’s not quite right.” 

“... you remember little people.” Tucker repeated as a statement rather than a question, confused but trying his damndest to understand.

“Fuck, it’s hard to explain. They glowed. I remember that. And they were on this iPad-looking thing-“

“So Tech Fairies.” 

“ _ No.  _ Oh my god, I was 9 when he was put in prison, the details are a  _ little  _ fucking fuzzy.” He sighs in frustration, then closes his eyes to shut off sensory once more. “...I don’t know what they were. I just knew that as soon as they became a thing, our father  _ really  _ lost it. I was… I think 7 when I saw them for the first time? I wasn’t supposed to see them, but I did. I kinda remember weird whispering? I don’t know. I just know that whatever the fuck that bastard created, it was illegal, and he was totally busted for it. Those things put a target on his back the second they were made, and thank  _ god  _ for that.” 

“But what  _ were  _ they?” 

Church’s hand slides down Tucker’s back, starting from the tip of his spine and downwards. “I don’t know. I was, like, in the first grade when it happened.” He stopped and thought for a moment, then corrected himself. “Okay, second grade. I skipped a class.” He says with an almost smug look that only he could pull off. 

“Of course you did, you fucking nerd.” 

“Weren’t you held back a year?”

“ _ That was for birthday purposes.” _

“Sounds like an excuse to me.” Church grins wide, feeling Tucker lift his head to shoot him a (rather harmless) glare. The man on top of Church pulled himself up to nip at a pale neck in  _ absolute protest,  _ but got a large hand to the face instead, stopping him from moving any further. 

“Church-“ he’s muffled, Church’s palm at his mouth. 

“Can’t hear you.” 

The gears in Tucker’s head turn, albeit slowly, but they turn dammit. 

He grins from behind Church’s hand, then his tongue darts out to dramatically lick his palm. 

“You’re fucking  _ gross.”  _ Church growls and pulls his hand back (to Tucker’s surprise). But Tucker moves quicker, gently taking hold of Church’s wrist. 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Patience, Padawan-“ 

“You’re a fucking  _ dork-“ _

All at once, Church felt warmth spread over his hand. Tucker had pressed his tongue to the pads of Church’s index and middle fingers, before he sunk down halfway. 

“ _ Fuck _ , okay that’s  _ gross  _ but also  _ hot.  _ Get the fuck away from me-“

Tucker only grinned around his hand, coming back back up as he made eye contact. 

Church could only glare in Tucker’s hold. As soon as the man before him was off his hand, he yanked it back. 

“You’re no fun.” 

“And you’re fucking weird.”

“Oh come  _ on-“ _

Tucker’s cut off by the sound of a ringtone- the  _ Imperial March _ from Star Wars- that came from the end table. 

“That’s- my sister’s ringtone?” 

Which made no sense, because Carolina was supposed to be shipped out. 

“You gave your sister the Imperial March? That’s reassuring.” 

“Trust me, it suits her. Now get off, I gotta answer her.” 

Tucker whined in protest, and was shoved off half-heartedly by the man below him. Church moves to the end table, picking up his glasses and placing them upon his face before he picks up the call. 

“ _ Leonard! Where are you?”  _

__ “Where am  _ I?  _ Where are  _ you?  _ You’re supposed to be halfway across the world!” 

“... _ I got leave. I managed to make it a little late, but I made it. Are you at the campus?” _

Church’s throat catches his words, and Tucker could see this. 

“What’s she saying?” He asks curiously, sitting up to sit with his legs crossed on the bed. 

“I- um.. I’m not at the campus, ‘Lina.” 

_ “...Where the hell are you.”  _ An order, not a question. 

“Don’t freak out-“ 

“ _ I’m gonna freak out when you start a sentence like that, Leonard!” _

“I’m at a friend’s house!” 

Silence. 

“... _ a friend? R-really? You actually made a friend?”  _ Sarcasm and mockery were nowhere to be heard; she was genuinely shocked, as well as hopeful. 

“Fuck,  _ yes.  _ He’s- okay, it’s more like-“

“ _ A boyfriend.”  _

__ Church glared hard at the floor, knowing it had no effect on his sister. “ _ Yes.  _ I went to his house for the break.” 

“ _ I- what? You went to their house for Christmas? Do you know how big of a deal that i-“ _

__ “ _ Carolina.  _ Where are you?”

Again, she offered silence, then sighed in defeat and dropped the subject. 

“ _ I’m in New York. I’ll catch a flight to you. Where are you?” _

“North Texas. Some town called Blood Gulch.” 

“ _ You’re literally in the middle of nowhere, fuck. Okay, I’m on my way.”  _

__

__ “Wait, you’re coming  _ here?” _

“ _ What the fuck am I supposed to do, Leonard? Wait until you get back at your dorm? I’m guessing you got Dad’s text, too.”  _

Church  _ seethed _ , growling softly to himself. 

“Why the  _ fuck  _ do you still call him that?”

“ _ Did you get his text or not, Leonard?” _

__ Tucker bit his lip nervously, unsure of what to do. Commitment was still new to Tucker, and with that came second thoughts on his actions on an emotional level. For years, he offered touch for sex rather than comfort (for those outside his family). Emotionally, Tucker had no idea what the hell he was doing. He knew he wanted to ease Church’s frustration, but the only thing coming to mind to do  _ that  _ was a blowjob; which, for the record, he’s  _ never fucking done before. _

“...Yeah, I got the bastard’s text. I didn’t respond. Changed my number- Wait. How did you even get this number? I never texted it to you when I put your contact in and I fucking  _ changed it- _ “

“ _ Details aren’t important. Besides, you change your number all the goddamn time after everything with Tex. Nothing new.” _

__ “I  _ told you  _ not to say her name-“ 

“ _ Whatever. I’m on my way. And Leonard?” _

__ “ _ What. _ ” He growls immaturely, closing his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. 

“... _ I’d love to meet him.”  _ She said softly, and almost kindly. Church’s heart nearly skipped a beat at her words.

“...Whatever. I’ll see you later.” 

Church hangs up, forcing the heat approaching his face back to the depths from which it came. He feels warm arms wrap around his waist, a knowing eyebrow raised. 

“She’s coming?” 

“Yeah… I’d rather her not fuckin’ show up at your house though. I’ll call her later and see if we can meet up with her somewhere in town.” 

“What’d she say? And- who’s ‘her’?”

Tucker knew damn well who Church was talking about; Sister’s gossip rang in his ears the moment Church began to seethe over the woman’s name. But you couldn’t blame him for pushing for more info. 

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it. And Carolina only said she was on her way. She’s like- in New York or something. It’ll be awhile before she gets here.” 

Church placed his phone back on the little table, taking a deep breath before completely relaxing against Tucker.

The fact that he could do so as easily as he did scared him; it shook his heart to the  _ core.  _ Trust was an uncommon occurrence when it came to Leonard Church, the idea of it fleeting and barely there. Church knew Tucker had never been with a guy, and in the very depths of his mind Church had the idea of being an  _ experiment  _ for Tucker, nagging at him at three in the morning when Church has nothing but silence and his boyfriend’s soft breathing beside him. 

He desperately hoped Tucker would find his experiment to be a success. 

“I haven’t seen my sister in years. At least four,” he mumbles, eyebrows knitting to form a scowl as Tucker rests his head on a bony shoulder. 

“...What’re you gonna do about your pops? Can he actually get to you?” Tucker didn’t exactly understand what form of strict rules Dr. Church was under. Tucker merely assumed the man restrained from his children, for good reason. 

“Oh, he’ll find a way. The bastard always gets what he wants.” 

“But why come back to you guys? It doesn’t really make sense if he didn’t give a shit before.” 

Church tensed in Tucker’s hold, but not at the somewhat harsh words leaving his boyfriend’s lips. 

“It’s… it’s complicated. I don’t think he downright doesn’t care about my sister and I, but- I dunno. It’s weird.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I remember he used to nag me to take my ADD meds as a kid. The military paid for the prescription, but my father didn’t have to make me take them. He didn’t have to care whether I did or not. But he did. It’s the little things, Tucker.” He explained carefully, each word chosen specifically as he spoke. 

Tucker quirked an eyebrow. “You have ADD?” 

Church nodded. “Mild, yeah. Focusing’s a bitch sometimes. Excessive noise or lights give me a fucking headache. So do crowds. I just kinda close my eyes to block it out. Voices can be fucking distracting.” 

Tucker remembered reading about ADD in one of his health classes. He vaguely remembered what the medication contained within the capsules.

“Is that why you drink so much coffee?” He quips, to which Church nodded once more. 

“Yeah, caffeine has the same effect as typical medication for ADD. The military still provides for my sister and I, but the idea of taking medication makes me feel like I’m a fuckin’ defect. So I drink a  _ shit  _ ton of coffee instead.” 

Tucker mulled over the ravenette’s words, picking it apart as he thought. “You’re not a defect, dumbass.” He mutters before pulling his arms away from Church’s thin frame. 

“Come on, let’s make some lunch.” 

  
  


———————-

Lavender was practically  _ vibrating  _ in her seat at the kitchen table.

“And I made some  _ serious  _ cash, too! Ms. Rollins even told me I could sell them at school once break is over!” Lavender’s voice overflowed with excitement as she looked to her older brother while he made the three of them sandwiches. “As soon as Dad comes home, I’m gonna see if he’ll help me make more!” 

Church couldn’t help but grin; the child made her own mittens to fight off the bitter cold outside, and managed to sell them all to neighbors on the sidewalks and children playing in the snow. The fact that this little girl was already up and ready to go make cash sent pride through Church’s chest. 

“You didn’t, like,  _ lace  _ them with anything, right?” Tucker asked as he placed a plate of food in front of her. 

The malicious grin on her face didn’t ease Tucker’s concern. 

  
  
  
  
  


As soon as they finished eating lunch, Church shot his sister a text. 

‘ _ There’s a park close to the place I’m staying. I’ll send you the address for it.’ _ He only had to wait a few seconds before his sister replied. 

_ ‘Thx. You better not have eyebags again.’ _

_ ‘My sleep will always be fucked, ‘Lina.’ _

__ “I told her to meet us at that park in town,” Church slid his phone in his pocket, readjusting his glasses as he sat against the couch in Tucker’s living room. Lavender had scampered upstairs, the vision of making money fresh in her mind. 

Tucker came over, placing his strong legs on either side of Church’s thighs. His body relaxes easily in Church’s lap, head cocking to the side as his hands reach for his boyfriend’s pelvis mindlessly. 

“So, how did she get any leave?” 

“I’m not sure… she didn’t really elaborate. I’m guessing she was trying to get it for Hanukkah. She hasn’t been home with me to celebrate it in a long time.” 

“But didn’t it start on the 10th?” Tucker’s hands advance up Church’s abdomen, feeling for the sake of feeling. 

  
  


Physical contact was suddenly all Church wanted. It was constantly on his mind. He spent so long pushing and bristling against human touch that he forgot what it was like to  _ accept  _ it. Tucker was physically clingy, which benefits Church as he craved the contact. 

  
  


The man in question raises an eyebrow. “I have no idea how you know that, but yes. It ended on the 18th.” 

“Why didn’t you do anything for it?”

Church mulled over the words for a moment, before leaning his head back on the couch cushion to stare at the ceiling. “Because I told myself I wouldn't celebrate unless Carolina was home. I was raised Jewish, but it wasn’t really forced on us. So I never  _ really  _ picked it up. She did, though. So I only want to celebrate it if she’s home.” Church let a hand wander, resting on Tucker’s thigh as he massaged the muscle lazily. 

“Church?” 

“Hm?”

“What’re you gonna do if your old man comes looking for you?”

Church’s hand stills.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Or burn it, for all I fucking care.”

  
  
  
  


____________________

  
  
  


“I’m thinking about getting rid of my dreads.” 

Tucker sat in the kitchen, scrolling through Pinterest. He pinned hairstyles he liked to a Board while also saving them to his camera roll. It was well into the evening, with Tucker’s father cooking the night’s dinner while Lavender coloring with Church in the living room. 

Childish, yes. But with Laurence there, Church couldn’t exactly slide his hands down his boyfriend’s pants, now could he? 

Besides, he liked coloring with the child. The process of repetitive marking with the occasional color-swap eased his busy mind. 

Laurence turned his head from the stove, raising an eyebrow in interest. “Oh? How come? You’ve spent so much time growing them, Lavernius.” 

Tucker absently twirled his index finger into a lock, pulling gently at the length. “Yeah… I dunno, I want something different.”

“You’re gonna have to shave your head, son.” 

“Nah, I’ll figure something out. I definitely want it short, though. Whaddya think, pops?”

Laurence stirred the rice in the pan, thinking over his son’s cosmetic decision. “You could go bald. It would be a  _ fantastic  _ look on you. I’m sure your sister would agree.” Laurence nodded solemnly, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. 

Tucker sent a harmless glare at his father before looking into the living room to gather his sister’s opinion.

Only to have his heart squeeze in affection. 

Church was seated on the floor in front of the coffee table that separated two couches; Lavender sat opposite of him, sitting on her knees in the carpet of the living room. She was chatting mindlessly with Church, asking a dozen questions that would have no logical or meaningful answers to them. Church seemed to fit so  _ naturally  _ into the scene; using a maroon colored pencil to shade in a rose in the middle of a rose bush. His eyebrows were knitted in laser-focused attention, glasses loose on the bridge of his nose where they sat as his hand bounced from flower to flower without finishing the one before it. Lavender, however, was consistently coloring the same flower, refusing to move on until she completed the first. 

_ When the hell did I think it was okay to let someone into my life like this? _

“Hey, Lavender!” Tucker forces the delight of seeing his boyfriend into the back of his mind, his voice catching his little sister’s attention. 

“Hm?” She doesn’t look up, her small hand scribbling I’m careful, calculated circles as she listened. 

“I’m thinking of cutting my dreads. Thoughts, dear sister of mine?”

Church looked up from his half-colored rose, his interest spiking at the mention of Tucker’s hair. 

“Cut them?” She looks up then, her curiosity clear in her small face. “They aren’t super long, but would you have to shave your head?” 

Tucker shook his head. “Nah. I bet I can rock a floof on my head.” 

Laurence failed to track, looking back at his son once more. “What in Heaven’s name is a floof?”

“You mean, like, super fluffy hair on top? With shaved sides?” His sister questioned, putting down her colored pencil. 

_ That  _ put an image in Church’s head. 

He liked Tucker’s dreads. They were well kept, and honestly kinda beautiful. Church loved seeing them pulled back into a small ponytail, and loved even more to tug lightly on the locked hair when Tucker began dozing off in the comfortable silence of his bedroom. 

But an  _ undercut.  _

He didn’t know why, but he found that to be more attractive than it should’ve been. 

“I’m absolutely in favor of the undercut.” He offers flatly, almost like he was irritated at the mere thought. 

He came off as irritated to Lavender and Laurence; but not Tucker. He knew better. 

“Yeah? Ya think?” He smirks, but just a little. He didn’t want to be  _ too  _ obvious around his father, but he still wants to have some fun, dammit.. “Would you go with me to get it cut?” 

Church only scowled further as he furiously colored the rose in front of him (which left the little girl across from him in a fit of confusion). “Sure, whatever. I don’t have anything  _ better  _ to do.” Lavender narrows her eyes at his response, picking up on his behaviors.

Slowly. 

Tucker only grinned at his response, turning to his father with a tilt of his head. “You mind if we head out after dinner to get it cut?” 

“You want to cut it now? Are you sure?” He asks with concern edging his voice, adding spices to the rice that he stirred in the pan. Tucker merely nodded, then added a verbal affirmative when he realized his father wasn’t looking his way. 

“You’re gonna look like a black celery!” His sister calls from the living room without looking up, resuming the hard work in her coloring book. A snort of amusement leaves Church, a small grin on his face. 

  
  


________________

  
  


“And you’re  _ sure  _ you wanna cut them off? They’re beautiful,” the hairdresser, who was petite and absolutely  _ adorable,  _ said with concern, examining Tucker’s locker hair carefully. 

“Hack away, lady! I think it’s time for somethin’ new,” Tucker smiled, seated in a chair with his chest covered by a black sheet. Church sat in a chair across from Tucker, magazine in his hand already as he prepared for a  _ long  _ session. 

“Shave his head. It’ll distress him,” he commented flatly without looking up at the two in front of him, legs crossed as he pushed up his glasses.

“ _ Please don’t do that-“  _

The hairdresser only smiled in response. She takes Tucker’s hair, examining carefully and trying to figure out the best approach. “Do you have a photo of what you’d like, hun?”

Tucker nodded. “Hey, Church, can you toss me my phone?” Tucker left it in a seat beside Church to keep him from any distractions. His boyfriend only quirked an eyebrow, refusing to move. 

Ticker sighed dramatically. “ _ Please?”  _

That pulled a grin from Church, who deemed Tucker’s plea to be enough to hand over the electronic device (with dramatic flare, of course).

Tucker shows the kind woman what he was after; the definition of “floof” on top, with close-shaved at the sides. She smiles, toothy and sweet. 

“I can make that work,” she nods in confidence, mentally psyching up for her challenge. 

  
  


And, by god, did she make it work. 

  
  


It took a lot of time, product, and cutting, but  _ damn  _ could Tucker pull off that haircut. 

It was cleanly cut at the sides; not a complete buzz, but definitely short. The hair on top was healthy, soft and absolutely  _ fluffy.  _

_ Perfect for pulling it- _

“Whaddya think? Kinda weird after having dreads for so long, but I’m kinda into this!” Tucker was grinning ear to ear, examining the new cut with a pink handheld mirror. The hair stylist looked pleased with her work.

_ As she should be, good god- _

“You still look stupid. A haircut can’t fix that,”

In response to the stylist’s shock, Tucker retorts, “Don’t worry, he’s just a tool. You did  _ great,  _ lady.” Tucker said with a wide, genuine smile. His comment eased her heart, a blush of pride on her face. 

Tucker tipped well before he left, unable to keep from running his dark hands through the floof atop his head. “It’s so  _ soft,  _ feel it!” 

Church only rolled his eyes, sitting in the passenger seat of Tucker’s truck. He decides to humor the boy, however, gliding his thin digits through the thick mess of hair. 

And, okay, it  _ was  _ really soft. 

Mischief flits over green eyes behind a set of thin glasses for mere seconds before Church makes the decision to  _ tug.  _

A soft, startled noise is drug out from the warm confines of Tucker’s throat. 

_ Fuck-  _

“What the hell?” Tucker questions, a half-hearted glare directly shot in Church's direction. The ravenette could only offer a small smirk before pulling his hand away. 

He had nothing to offer, anyway, when he already received what he wanted. 

  
  
  


_________________

Carolina arrived the very next day; she wasted no time at all. 

She agreed to meet with her little brother at a local park, a place full of children freely throwing snow at each other. 

A place where her words didn’t matter. 

  
  


She arrived in her uniform, her expression worn-down to a forever look of exhaustion, anger, and unwavering obstinance. 

Children occasionally gawked at her, their faces stricken with awe. Military was uncommon in their town; seeing somebody who looked as strong as Carolina left the children in amazement and admiration as they gazed upon her cleanly pressed uniform. 

Tucker’s introduction was rocky at the start. If she weren’t military, he’d definitely be far more loose than was probably deemed appropriate. However, despite popular belief, Tucker had standards. 

His cousin was once military, and he knows the sexist hell she went through. Despite being an absolute man whore, he’d grown to  _ yet still be respectful.  _ Tucker didn’t start out that way, that’s for sure. But everything changed when his ma passed and his cousin was killed in action. 

Tucker never knew of the hell his cousin endured until after she died. 

So yeah, Carolina definitely terrified him. The stories Church had told him didn’t help. But he was sure of one thing; she really was beautiful. He could see the same green eyes Church held in Carolina’s face; bright green and filled with something nobody can understand. It was almost mesmerizing just  _ looking  _ at how bright her eyes truly were in color. 

Her hair was what really did it for Tucker. Short, expected from somebody in the armed forces. But the  _ color.  _ It was like somebody took the very emotion that was Rage itself, and trimmed it cleanly to accent the beautiful green of her eyes. She had a few small scars that kept hair from growing back in those damaged places. Carolina was the embodiment of  _ strength  _ and her scars showed it. 

The scars, though.  _ Those  _ got to him. He wondered what all she’d seen. What all she’s had to endure just to say  _ I survived.  _ She looked… almost broken. 

Like Church. 

She had reached her hand out, her body stiff and spine rigid in an eternal state of  _ attention  _ and  _ alertness _ . Surely a military habit, Tucker mused. Her face held little emotion, but her brother knew better. 

Carolina was overjoyed to know Church found something  _ healthy.  _

Tucker accepted the handshake, his posture far more loose compared to hers. But he wouldn’t be lying if said he wasn’t nervous as all freakin’ hell. This woman was basically the equivalent of your typical teen in high school meeting his girlfriend’s father for the very first time, with the dumb teen stammering  _ It’s an honor to meet you, sir  _ as his hand sweats.

Tucker feels like that teenager, praying to whatever god or goddess that may be out there that this woman doesn’t  _ hate  _ him. 

He knows every father that’s caught their daughter with him hates him. Hated his guts, even if they  _ really  _ weren’t doing anything wrong. Which is why he  _ always  _ had the rule of  _ Don’t fuck the same girl twice. _

But this. He wasn’t prepared for this. Tucker never, not  _ once  _ introduced himself to some chick’s father. As the saying goes; he’s here for a good time, not a long time. And in the moment he realizes he’s meeting  _ the person who basically raised Church,  _ Tucker starts to understand just how fucking serious this relationship is gonna be. 

It terrified him; the thought of commitment scared him beyond belief. He’d never in his life held a serious relationship, because he  _ never wanted one.  _ Tucker has commitment issues, and he never wanted to put a girl through that. He didn’t want to start something he  _ couldn’t finish.  _

Besides; he enjoyed it. Tucker always said he was a lover, not a fighter. And sometimes, it was true. He liked the games women tend to play; it kept him entertained. 

But that’s all it was; entertainment. 

More and more quickly, Tucker was beginning to realize Church was  _ not  _ entertainment; but rather something he truly cared for, and wanted to grow with. That thought alone had his heart racing a million miles an hour.

They sat at a two-sided bench table, showing its age with countless knife marks, softened edges and prickly splinters. Frost appeared in patches, glittering despite the shading of an oak tree above it. Carolina sat across from her brother, Tucker beside him. 

Tucker had no idea anybody could look more tired than  _ Church.  _

“So you’re the poor bastard stuck with my brother?” Church could only glare from behind his glasses, hands bundled up into the thick pocket of his hoodie to keep warm. Her tone was gruff, but tinged with something that could only be recognized as  _ fondness,  _ if you squint _.  _

“He’s a nightmare, truly the  _ worst,”  _ Tucker couldn’t help but to take the holy opportunity that was insulting Leonard Church. Because how could you not?

Carolina smiled, just a teeny bit. 

“Whatever, you two have met. That’s  _ great,” _ he growls softly, huddling closer into his own body heat. “But what about the old bastard? What’s going on?”

Tucker noticed the visible tense in Carolina’s expression before she responded. “Well, I’m sure you know his time’s up. And I bet my ass he played his cards well enough to get out a few months early, too, because I’m pretty sure he was supposed to get out in  _ March,  _ not now,” she inhales deeply, the cold air of the season filling her lungs. “What his motives are, I have no idea. He only said he was coming home.” 

“What the  _ fuck  _ is home? We burned the family house to the fucking ground, remember?” 

Tucker’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets in shock, his head whipping to Church’s direction. “Dude- what? You guys  _ burned  _ your house down? What the  _ hell.  _ Why would you do that?” 

Church growled softly in response, hunching closer into his own space as at least 3 sturdy, impenetrable walls shot up to safeguard Church’s heart. 

Carolina spoke for him. 

“When our father was put in prison, we left our family home. Our father actually built that place with his own two hands. All of it. Before he even married our mother. I was 19, and had held three jobs for over a year before he went to prison. So I had enough money to rent an apartment for Leonard and I.” Her voice was gentle; solemn and practiced. 

“We saw no damn reason to leave that house standing. We didn’t see the value of it. Just another Hell that  _ he  _ created.” Church glowered, clenching his fists so tight in the pocket of the hoodie that his knuckles whitened. “And it’s not like we owed any money to the government for that house, so burning it was fucking satisfying.” 

Tucker’s mind was swimming with questions-  _ Whose idea was it to burn it? Was it Church’s? Did you keep anything from the house? Like pictures?-  _ Tucker was  _ really  _ starting to understand the differences between he and Church; their lives were polar opposites, impossibly so. Tucker had always had family, even after his mother died. It only brought their family closer, more protective. Yes, he and his father didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but Tucker  _ knows  _ his father loves him. Knows that his father will always have a safe place to offer if Tucker ever needed to move back in. 

Church didn’t have that. 

Church had one relative and one relative only, and she was in the middle of a war zone most of the time. Her life is not guaranteed. At any moment, Church could be left as the last of his family standing. Church’s life isn't stable; not like Tucker’s. Church wasn’t guaranteed a safety net, with a loving family holding it. 

He was guaranteed hell, loneliness, and disdain. Church would have to  _ fight  _ for everything he wants; education, trust from those who know his father, a roof over his head, a  _ simple friendship- _

The idea of  _ kindness  _ never went well with Church; he always anticipated there would be a catch. And nine times out of ten, there was. People either looked at him with malice, pity, or disgust. The malice came from those who, ironically, didn’t know him; only knew his nasty attitude and insanely short temper. The pity came from those who  _ do  _ know him; and his father’s story. The disgust? 

Simply, it came from the ones who actually dated him. 

The reality that is Leonard Church’s life was hitting Tucker like a brick. 

Church is a  _ real piece of work,  _ and Tucker had no idea how the  _ hell  _ he was gonna work with it.

“Then… what the hell is home?” Tucker questions, looking to his boyfriend for an answer. 

“He probably has no idea we burned the place down. Who the hell knows what’s going through his head right now.” Carolina shook her head, running a rough hand through her short hair. “The only other place I could imagine heading out to is just our home town in general. Might try to find Leonard, at least. I don’t think he knows I’m on leave right now-“ 

“It’ll be a cold day in  _ Hell  _ before he ever finds my ass. He shouldn’t even be legally  _ allowed  _ anywhere near me,” he snaps his response, teeth bared like they’re ready to  _ bite.  _

Tucker couldn’t stop his hand sliding over to the small of man’s back, silently running circles over the clothed skin in soothing motions. 

“I don’t know what the hell he’s thinking, Leonard. Nor do I have any idea of whether or not he’d come looking for you, but you know Dad’s just-“ 

Every fiber in Church’s body  _ screams.  _

“ _ Don’t fucking call him that.  _ He doesn’t fucking  _ deserve  _ that title-“ his body bristles, his Fight or Flight instincts swirling in his brain in a million different directions. “And he’s just  _ what,  _ Carolina?  _ Worried?  _ You think he’s fucking worried about us? He practically abandoned us, Carolina!” He seethes once more, Tucker caught in what he feels like an entire fucking war zone. 

“He’s still our father, Leonard. You and I  _ both  _ know he didn’t just leave us to die. He still-“ she stops, knowing full damn well that she needed to pick her words carefully. One wrong move, and Church would leave the area faster than she could militaristically tackle him to the ground. And he was watching; carefully watching her body language and her facial expressions. Church  _ knew  _ what she wanted to say; that their father still loves them. But Carolina had to catch her words, and craft them  _ very  _ carefully. 

Because there wasn’t a word Church hated more than love. 

“-he still  _ cares  _ about us. You specifically.” She muttered the last half, avoiding eye contact as she did. 

Tucker couldn’t help but glance between the two; they were both so different in his eyes. Carolina seemed to hold onto hope for their family, but Church wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He questions with venom, but his face showed nothing but confusion and curiosity. 

She only shook her head. “Nothing,” Carolina takes a deep breath to clear her mind. “On a lighter note-“ She makes a quick glance into Tucker’s direction, who was  _ so clearly  _ tense from this entire situation that was thrown into his lap. Her expression softened, yet still  _ somehow  _ looked even more exhausted than when he first met the redhead. 

“I have something for you, Leonard.” Carolina leans over to the left, a military-styled pack by her legs on the concrete. She unzips it, rummages for a few moments, then pulls out something wrapped in a large, brown paper bag. The bag was clearly well worn, bleached pale in certain areas of wrinkles. It was taped, to keep it secured. She slid it over the table into Church’s direction with a small smile. “Some stuff I picked up on my travels.” 

The heat and anger in Church’s body relaxes, only slightly, as he looks from the bag to his sister curiously. Tucker raises an eyebrow, then nudges Church’s shoulder to open it. 

Carefully, thin fingers unwrap and pull at the paper. What was left underneath was clearly unexpected, because Church’s jaw damn near hits the table in amazement. 

Absolutely nothing in the wrapping made any sense to Tucker; wires here and there in various colors, random sheets of metal in all shapes and sizes, several tiny bolts and screws, small computer-looking chips, as well as other odds and ends. To Tucker, it was a pile of trash. 

But not to Church, evidently. 

“Oh my god- where did you  _ get  _ all of this?” For the first time in months, his smile is wide and genuine and  _ excited.  _ He runs through the equipment carefully, looking at everything with care and precision. The metal plates in particular catch his eye, nimble hands turning the plates in all directions to carefully take in all angles. 

“Here and there. Some I just found in rubble, some I picked up from friends. I had to go through  _ hell  _ to get them into the country, but it worked out in the end. I figured you could use some entertainment.” Her smile was warm and loving, and every ounce sisterly. 

“Hell- I could actually fix my project with this stuff!” Brighter, brighter and more beautiful than Tucker realized it could ever be. 

“With this crap? Could you actually fix it with this stuff?” He forces his eyesight onto the scrap metal rather than Church’s beautiful, sharp face. 

“Hell yes! Look, I even have jumper wires!” His eyes flick to the corner of the bag, only to brighten once more. “Oh my  _ god,  _ how did you get your hands on a cytron 13A? God, Sis, you’re a dream.” He looks up at his sister, admiration and gratitude in his eyes as he fiddles with wires in his trigger-happy hands. 

“Like I said, it was hell. But I wanted to bring you back  _ something.  _ I’ve been gone too long to not think about it.” Her stiff posture relaxes, only a smidge. But Tucker notices anyway. 

“Thanks, this could seriously save my ass in school right now.” He’s already sorting the equipment, his cat-brain putting everything in mental compartments and files. 

“...How is school?” She asks carefully, a flash of worry seen in her eyes if you squint. 

“Meh. It’s alright. Not super exciting, Sis.” 

“If you’d agree to go to a party with me, it totally would be, Church.” 

“Dude  _ no way.  _ Everyone’s either drinking or making out-“ 

“How is that any different than what  _ we  _ do?” 

“I hate people, you know that.” He says flatly, with a small grin that showed anything but malice in his words. 

Carolina couldn’t be any more thankful for her brother’s current situation. Just a year ago, it was hell on earth trying to drag Church out of his self-loathing and his workaholic habits. He was miserable, but at the time refused to do anything about it. 

Thank the Universe Tucker was stubborn. And kinda stupid. 

  
  


_______________________

  
  
  


Christmas was a blur. 

Church had snuck off with his sister to scour the town for a gift (even one for Lavender, the little brat). Tucker had done the same, and before he knew it, Christmas break was over. It was back to barely scraping by in his classes, as well as procrastination and panic attacks. 

There had been no word from Dr. Church, which the Church siblings assumed to be a good thing. Church was still paranoid, however. 

Carolina was paying for a hotel in town (to be overprotective of her little brother, of course). She paid for three weeks, then planned to visit a few old friends afterwards.

The boys made it back to campus for the new semester. Church had emailed his professor, explaining the situation with his fucked-up project. He was granted extra time, which set Church into hardcore Workaholic Mode. 

Like a switch, he was holed up and distant. He refused to go out for drinks, and paid less and less attention to his social life as he worked. 

It drove Tucker up the walls. Partying was fun, but the loneliness always settled bitterly into his stomach when he made it back to his dorm. They had been back for a week, and the lack of hardly any physical and emotional contact with his boyfriend was starting to  _ really  _ get to him. 

_ Oh fuck, am I clingy? _

Tucker  _ hates  _ clingy; clingy meant strings attached, and that went completely against his old Rules of Dating. The first rule being  _ Dont Fucking Date. _

He shook his head in defiance to himself.  _ No, I’m not. Church just hasn’t spoken to me in fucking days. _

  
  
  
  


Tucker came into their dorm on a Friday night, tired and giggly from the party he attended. His limbs were jelly, and his mind fuzzy with a small portion of alcohol. He turns the handle to their shared dorm, taking his jacket off the moment the door shuts behind him. 

“Hey, I’m back,” he calls with a smile, his voice traveling into a void of darkness. The clock at his bed read 3:14 A.M. 

_ Fuck, that’s way later than I meant- _

__ He spots Church at his desk, one lamp on and shining over his hard work. Tucker had just enough sense to realize the older man’s asleep; his arms remained folded onto the desk, his body hunched in an uncomfortable manner with his head turned to the left, cheek resting on his arms. 

  
  


The tank top he wore was tight across his back in this position, showing off his sharp shoulder-blades and the beautiful dip to his spine. 

The silence of the room amplified his soft breathing. A coffee mug remained on his desk; most likely cold by now, Tucker assumed. He rapidly blinks, an attempt to clear his mind before approaching. Tucker takes off his shoes, then changes out of his clothes, brain on autopilot. He replaces his colorful clothing for something far more relaxed; soft, well-worn briefs, and nothing else.

He approaches Church with attempted caution, footsteps light as he moves. Tucker reaches for Church’s hair, softly running his hand through thick, black strands. Brown eyes train on a pale face, examining every feature as Church’s expression remains soft and vulnerable. Then, his hands come up and slowly drag over Church’s shoulders, rubbing deeply and slowly as he goes. The muscle beneath his dark hands proved to be tight and knotted; obvious signs that Church has been in the same position for several ungodly hours. 

A soft grumble is heard from the man below his hands, but he did not stir. Tucker took that as a sign to lean in, gently pressing a kiss to the top of Church’s hair. 

“Dude, wake up. It’s like— three in the morning. C’mon.” Tucker’s mind was still floaty with alcohol, but he wasn’t outright  _ drunk.  _ But the floaty feeling left him suddenly sleepy and groggy as his mind persistently attempted to turn the cogs in order to think properly. 

Church grumbled once before slowly sitting up with his head hung low in exhaustion. His eyes remained closed, glasses askew and crooked. Tucker leans in from behind, removing the eyewear and setting them onto the desk in front of Church. 

“C’mon, sleep with me.” He smirks to himself at the possible implications, but he knew Church and himself were  _ way too damn tired  _ to do anything. Church merely grunts a response, screwing his eyes shut even tighter. 

_ Okay. So he wants to play it like that. _

Tucker heaves a dramatic sigh before turning Church’s swivel chair to face him. The youngest of the two leans forward, steadying his feet as much as a tipsy man possibly could. His arms wrap from under Church’s thighs before hoisting him up into a strong hold. By instinct, Church’s legs loosely wrap around Tucker’s narrow waist and his thin arms draped over dark, bare shoulders. Church tucks his face into the crook of Tucker’s neck, inhaling as he does so. 

Church’s proximity strung shivers up his spine, but his tired brain forced his body to ignore it. Tucker migrates himself and the man-child in his arms, setting Church easily onto his mattress. Almost immediately, Church is curled into the blankets, but his hand slowly raises to tug at Tucker’s wrist. He‘s muttering, eyebrows knitted tightly with his eyes still closed. Tucker couldn’t stop the smile creeping up his features as he slid under the blankets with his boyfriend. Thin, cold arms are drawn to Tucker’s warm chest. The rest of Church’s body remained curled, knees gently pressed to Tucker’s abdomen as Church tried to conserve heat. 

This was still new for Tucker. Sharing a bed in more than one occasion,  _ without  _ sex, was bizarre. It broke every rule he had for  _ No Strings Attached.  _ Church was the opposite of Tucker’s typical lifestyle. And the man curled beside him had  _ several  _ issues. Yet, for whatever god forsaken reason, Tucker wants to stick around; wants to grow closer, and figure out what the hell was sleeping with him every night. 

However, in the back of his mind, Tucker wondered how long this would really last. 

He found himself suddenly  _ very  _ awake. Church was out like a light, soft breaths against Tucker’s collar bone. Said teen had a million thoughts running in his jumbled brain at once. 

_ Do I want this to last? Am I missing out on something else? Does Church actually wanna stay with me?  _

The questions came faster and faster and  _ faster- _

_ Am I actually committed…? What’s Church’s old man gonna do? What the hell did I get myself into with that mess, anyway? Is this whole relationship just an experiment, or do I actually really like this dude? _

The last question stuck, well above the rest. 

Was it an experiment? He supposed, in a way, it was. But what about his literal feelings for the man? Are they there?

_ Of course they fuckin’ are. I’m just really-  _

Confused. Tucker was incredibly confused. 

The slide of a thin arm over his neck pulls Tucker out of his thoughts, pale legs uncurling to press flat against Tucker’s thighs. The sudden physical contact brings nervous butterflies to his stomach, fluttering around like he’s in middle school again.

It was nice; having the companionship beside him at night was genuinely and simply  _ nice.  _ Tucker had friends, like Kai, but this? This was completely different; different and new and  _ fresh.  _ It was like— 

Like he was given something so new by the Universe, yet so obvious, that he couldn’t understand how he had lived his life  _ without  _ this new establishment. 

A soft grunt breaks Tucker’s spiraling brain and distracts Tucker for the second time that night. Thin hands glide down and away from his neck, spanning over Tucker’s warm chest in search of body heat like a man stranded on Everest. Without thinking, Tucker wraps his arm over a pale waist, pulling the older man closer to his own body. Church relaxes in his hold, letting Tucker’s heat roll through his body like a thick blanket. 

Once Church is completely settled, Tucker’s pulled into a dreamless sleep. 

  
  


  * ••



  
  


His body was on  _ fire. _

Tucker could feel the extra body pressed against his back, leaving no space between the two. The air in the room was suddenly overheated with sunlight peeking through the blinds of their shared dorm. 

It was Sunday, which called for  _ complete and absolute laziness.  _

But the extra warmth was making Tucker’s skin crawl in the best ways; heat pooled deep and low in his abdomen. Gods know when the sudden desire wracked Tucker’s body like a fucking hurricane, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Church’s face was buried between dark shoulder blades, his arms wrapped tightly around Tucker’s torso. His lower half is firm against Tucker’s back, with legs tangled within his own. His partner remains asleep, oblivious and dead to the outside world around him. 

Tucker carefully and quietly rotates his form, turning from within Church’s iron grip to face him properly. The pale face that greets Tucker is soft, and left in an infinite state of calm. Church was truly as if his soul was completely unaware of its surroundings, leaving him in a deep and peaceful slumber. 

Tucker takes total advantage of Church’s death-like sleep. 

With purpose, Tucker shuffles his body low enough to reach Church’s exposed neck, aiming directly for the center. A warm tongue takes its rightful place against Church’s Adam’s apple like it was made for the spot. Tucker’s hands made themselves at home at Church’s chest, squeezing and fondling as he pleased. 

A deep, rough noise is heard from the older man’s throat, signifying that he’s re-entered consciousness. Tucker sucks a dark bruise into pale skin, pulling Church impossibly closer to his own body as he works his mouth. Church couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, letting Tucker overwhelm his remaining senses with  _ very welcome  _ physical touch. 

“You have class today?” 

“What? ‘S Sunday,, idiot.” 

“You’ve taken weekend hours before-“

“No class today,” Church cuts Tucker off, body instinctively reaching for his boyfriend’s touch. 

A sly grin spreads across Tucker’s features. “Then I guess you won’t mind if you can’t sit for a while.” 

“I haven’t seen you in a  _ week—“ _

__ “Who’s fuckin’ fault is that?-“ 

“—so I  _ better  _ not be able to sit when you’re done-“

Tucker’s blood ran hot, pooling like a furnace in his gut. He lets his hands glide downwards, over the smooth plain of Church’s ribs. Tucker reaches out, palms spreading as they move towards their goal of soft yet firm muscle. They slip through soft shorts with ease, the fabric useless against Tucker’s determination. He has a handful of Church’s ass, squeezing to emphasize  _ exactly  _ what’s his. 

_ Oh my God, how is this ass so fucking perfect? He literally just sits on it all day, what the fuck- _

Church so  _ rudely  _ cuts Tucker’s train of thought with a roll of his hips, grinding forward with a small grunt escaping through the back of his throat. Thin fingers find their way onto Tucker’s chest, mindlessly squeezing as Church let’s his eyelids flutter closed once more. 

A thick, blazing heat pools once more in Tucker, feeling like honey drizzling down his body as Church did as he pleased. Teeth latch onto pale skin, Tucker making damned sure that he left a dark bruise against Church’s collar bones. 

_ These people are gonna fucking  _ know  _ who’s been screwing Church’s brains out- _

Unconsciously, Tucker’s brows knit at the thought, a more possessive nature crawling into his very being as he continues to mark and bite the blank canvas in front of him. Soft mewls spill from Church’s lips, like a fucking symphony to Tucker’s ears. He squeezes the handful of ass in his dark hands  _ harder _ , growling as he suddenly rolls them over. 

He has Church pinned perfectly below him, just like the first time they fucked. Only this time, Tucker didn’t have a curtain of dreads to shield their moment from the world; instead, he had soft, fluffy and short curls. 

And Church could  _ not  _ stop himself from slinking a hand through his curls even if he tried. His hand slid into dark hair starting from Tucker’s forehead, slowly raking his deft fingers against Tucker’s scalp. He leans into Church’s touch, letting a soft moan slip past his guard. 

And  _ fuck  _ if Tucker’s eyes weren’t pretty. 

They were dark, but warm and smooth and  _ welcoming.  _ They promised something like home, for those who get over Tucker’s irritating personality. And god, did Church love them- 

Then, at just the worst possible moment (because Church is just that  _ lucky) _ , his phone damn-near explodes with sound from its tiny speakers at the end table. 

“You’re  _ not  _ answering that-“

“Only three people have my number, Tucker. And since I’m about to get fucked by one of them, that leaves my sister and my lawyer-“

“Oh my god, they can wait-“ Tucker has his face buried in Church’s neck, his advancements sending sharp thrills down Church’s rigid spine. Dark hands begin to roam once more, squeezing at Church’s tight chest while teeth graze at the skin of Church’s shoulder. “Haven’t even really had the chance to  _ hang out,  _ much less  _ fuck- _ “

And by the  _ gods,  _ Church wishes they could continue. He really fucking did. But his gut told him he needed to answer that call, whether he liked it or not. 

“ _ Fuck-  _ Tucker, I have to-“ Church’s hands slide up dark, corded arms, giving a tight squeeze in some form of pathetic protest. Tucker only dives deeper, teeth sinking in harder, and  _ fuck him  _ if that didn’t do things to Church’s fluttery brain. 

He damn near prayed it would bruise like an apple, for everybody else to see. 

Then finally,  _ finally,  _ Church managed to pull himself together enough to push Tucker back, which earned him a soft whine in protest that  _ almost  _ made Church cave.

Tucker was an expert at The Face. His bottom lip would jut out, just a little, and his eyes would make you think somebody kicked him like a dog; and Church  _ hated  _ being the reason for that face. 

He knew; he  _ knew  _ how much Tucker had missed him. Church had been holing himself up, demanding that he’d be left alone to work on that stupid project of his that basically exploded in his damn face. But he knew why. He truly did. And if Church was being honest with himself (and he  _ never  _ is), he missed hanging out with his boyfriend, too. 

So yes, it hurt like a bitch to push Tucker away. 

He leans in, giving Tucker a long, careful glide of his tongue across Tucker’s cheek. It was warm and wet and  _ soft.  _ His hand held Tucker’s chin gently, making brown eyes blow wide with shock as he felt warmth spread through his face. 

_ That was- fucking weird but also sweet?? _

Tucker couldn’t wrap his brain around the gesture, but he decided he liked it. A  _ lot.  _ But a few seconds later, he realizes it’s an apology and a promise at the same time. 

_ A cat. He apologized like a cat, what the fuck- _

Church turns away from the man in his lap, leaning over and swiping his phone from the end table with a heavy sigh. The bed creaks with his movements, practically protesting Church’s decision. 

When he answers, Tucker quickly realizes it’s Carolina. Church’s face was suddenly serious as he listened to the other line, eyes narrowing and zoning in on the blankets in front of them. In turn, Tucker decided to distract himself with the harsh lines of Church’s hip bones. He lets his thumb trace the hardness, mindlessly toying with that pale, slender waist. 

He noticed it sent a small shiver through his boyfriend, and Tucker was entirely aware of how touch-starved Church really is. But Church had a strong will, and he wasn’t gonna let Tucker distract him  _ that  _ easily. 

_ That’s fine, I like a challenge. _

Tucker couldn’t stop the small grin even if he tried. 

“No, ‘Lina. There’s no  _ fucking  _ way we’re doing that. They’re your friends, not mine-“ 

Clever hands fan out, slowly but surely rubbing up and down a toned stomach. Church ignored the movement, keeping his expression stern as he refused to even look at Tucker. 

_ I’m not giving him the satisfaction- _

__ Tucker’s hands slip underneath Church’s tank top, heading straight for his chest. He finds what he’s looking for, massages the hard nubs beneath his finger tips. 

_ That  _ was enough to make Church send a death glare in Tucker’s direction. He could only grin wider, one hand shoving black fabric upwards as he crawls forward. He’s nestled perfectly into Church’s lap, leaning his face to kiss Church’s sharp cheekbones. Within seconds, plush lips are kissing up and down the side of the older man’s face, slow and lazy as he works his hands deeper into the muscle of Church’s chest. 

He had no idea he liked it slow and lazy until he met Tucker, who  _ loved  _ taking his sweet fucking time. Church was so used to rough and rushed, with little to no regard on how he or his partner feel afterwards. 

But  _ Tucker.  _ He liked to be thorough, slow and possessive. 

“No  _ way.  _ I’m not doing it, Carolina. They used to treat me like a kid!” A pause, then a growl. “I don’t care if I actually  _ was  _ a kid when it happened, it still pissed me off!” 

Tucker stills his movements, the conversation catching up to his brain. He pulls back, a curious yet concerned look in his brown eyes. Only then did Church spare him a glance. 

“..Okay-! Fine, but I have class  _ early  _ tomorrow. It’s gonna have to be in the afternoon.” He lays back with a sigh of frustration, screwing his eyes shut with the phone held to his ear. His free hand comes up and runs down his face, pulling his features downwards dramatically in the movement.

Tucker takes this as an opportunity to strike; he lowers his body from his current position in his boyfriend’s lap, hands sprawling upwards to push that  _ dastardly  _ tank top back up. The fabric bunches up under Church’s arms, leaving his upper half completely exposed. Tucker noticed Church had closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for whatever bullshit Tucker was gonna test him with. 

“Okay.  _ Okay.  _ I got it, ‘Lina. I’ll be on my  _ best behavior-“  _ His breath suddenly catches when he feels Tucker’s tongue -hot and heavy- against his chest, right between his pectorals. His dark eyes peeked from under his thick lashes ( _ damn him-) _ , his tongue pulling up and off his skin slowly and with purpose. 

“ _ Fine,  _ I’m fine, Carolina. Just- fuck-“ Tucker moves his mouth southward, laving over slender abdominals. 

_ Warm.  _ Tucker was so fucking warm it was probably unreal. And Church? He was like a man trapped in an iceberg, alone and isolated from the world around him. 

Tucker was melting that iceberg, emotionally and physically. 

“I gotta go, Carolina,” he grits his teeth when he feels Tucker’s tongue dip towards his navel, teasing with a wide smirk. 

_ I knew I’d win this.  _

__ Church cast his phone aside, a death glare in his eyes. He sits up, reaching in front of him to let his hand grip Tucker’s jaw like a vice. 

  
  
  


And he has this look in his eye- like he was gonna eat Tucker  _ alive.  _

__ “You wanna act  _ cute?  _ Put that mouth to good use.” He’s baring his teeth, a snarl that closely resembled the bear that Tucker always enjoyed using for comparison. 

And  _ fuck,  _ that went straight to Tucker’s dick-

“ _ Now,  _ Tucker.” 

Tucker couldn't prevent the pathetic whine, couldn’t keep it trapped in his throat. His jaw was released from Church’s harsh grip, giving Tucker freedom of movement once more. 

_ Holy fuck, I think I wanna be dominated? _

Tucker returns his warm mouth to the task at hand, hands pulling down Church’s shorts in one smooth motion.

His brain skids to a halt.

_...I have no idea what I’m doing. _

__ Tucker examines the obvious bulge in Church’s briefs, tight and probably painful to deal with. His eyes couldn’t break the contact, curious more than anything as he stared like an absolute idiot. 

Nimble fingers suddenly slide into Tucker’s hair, gripping firmly yet carefully. His head is tilted back a few inches, forcing his eyes to meet Church’s. 

“...I know you haven’t done this before. And you don’t  _ have to,  _ but-“

“I wanna—“ The words come out garbled due to the position of his neck; desperate-sounding and weak. “Fuck- I just don’t know what I’m doing, but I  _ want it,  _ Church.” 

The air was damn near punched out of his lungs. Church forces his breaths to slow, closing his eyes to gather his fucking thoughts because  _ he really likes hearing Tucker beg— _

He takes a deep breath before letting his eyes flutter back open. “Okay… Listen to me,” he grips Tucker’s hair harder, which rewards Church with a soft moan. “Focus on your breathing. Through your nose, okay? Relax your throat, and  _ watch your teeth.  _ It’s not hard,” his grip softens, just a fraction. “...I promise.” Tucker could only stare, trying to absorb every word into his lust-driven brain. 

If you told Tucker four years into the past that he’d be blowing a guy, he’d cackle  _ violently.  _ It wasn’t until two years ago that Tucker began wondering how he felt about dudes. And now? 

_ I definitely like dudes-  _

Tucker takes a deep breath to reassure himself, the hand in his hair pulling away to give him access to the task at hand. Church’s legs bend at the knees, allowing Tucker to slink his arms around his boyfriend’s thighs to support himself. He licks his bottom lip, eyes back on their target. Church is  _ painfully  _ hard, begging for Tucker’s attention. 

_ No way in hell am I gonna deny it what it wants- _

__ His head leans forward, a sharp intake of breath breaching Tucker’s eardrums from above before his warm tongue glides across Church’s length through his briefs. 

There’s a heavy, shaky sigh of contentment filling the room, signaling that Tucker’s doing just fine so far. 

He gives another experimental lick before letting his lips trail upwards to the throbbing tip. Church sits back up, desperate to thread his fingers into thick hair once more. Only this time, he’s gentler, carding his fingers slowly and encouragingly through the thick tendrils. 

Hesitantly, Tucker’s pulling the black briefs from Church’s legs. As soon as he saw Church’s cock, waiting for him impatiently, he just realized how real his situation is. 

Two things spring to the forefront of his mind: 

One: He’s about to  _ blow somebody. _

Two: He’s about to blow  _ Church.  _

_ I can’t tell if I’m fucking lucky, or if I’m fucking not. _

__ His chances of screwing this up are  _ high,  _ and that’s why he’s considering himself unlucky. He had zero experience, and he’s the king of second thoughts when it comes to anything fucking serious. 

“Relax, I can hear you freakin’ think-“

“Now you know how I feel,” Tucker snips back with a smirk, using snark to build confidence. 

Tucker dips his head before his boyfriend can respond, taking in three inches of dick in his mouth. 

_ Warm- it’s really fucking warm. And— salty? _

__ A deep, guttural moan is heard from above, Church’s hand burrowing deeper into chocolate curls. He’s supporting himself with the other arm, palm buried in the plethora of blankets and cushion beneath them. 

Tucker pulls back experimentally, awed by the slick shine of the tip. 

“The slit—“ Church murmurs, forcing his brain to form coherent words. “Try toying with it.” 

Tucker couldn’t slow the heat in his face, an instant reaction to his given instructions. Again, he takes a deep breath, then lets his tongue play with the waiting slit. He tongues inwards before swiping over the head completely, dragging ungodly and  _ perfect  _ sounds from Church’s throat. 

Like their first time together, Tucker learned quickly. He just needed to remember what  _ he  _ likes when someone’s blowing him, and try to replicate the techniques. He was clearly inexperienced, and definitely clumsier compared to Church’s skilled mouth. But his eagerness to learn definitely made up for it, his tongue wrapping pleasantly around the hard member in his mouth. He felt Church’s hips grind upwards carefully, another content sigh breathing out through his lips. 

Tucker’s halfway down before he has to pull back up, his throat getting twitchy with him already. 

“Fuck, I want this down my throat  _ yesterday.”  _

“Be patient, dumbass. Trust me, deep throating takes practice.” Tucker damn near  _ purrs  _ at the memory from his kitchen back home.

_ God he looked so fucking pretty on his knees-  _

“Just focus, and again, breathe through your nose, idiot.” Tucker merely nods, tongue delving for another taste. His hands wrap snugly around Church’s member, covering what his mouth can't reach just yet. His lips are back on the tip, suckling softly while his left hand pumps in languid movements. 

He pulls off, examining his work for a short set of seconds before dragging his tongue from base to tip. It draws a moan from Church, deep and honest and so fucking genuine that it scared Tucker to  _ death.  _

Tucker has his boyfriend’s cock back in his mouth, going further than before. He has about two thirds of it in his throat, a soft hum setting off to relax Tucker’s muscles in order to adjust to the size. 

_ Oh my god, I can feel his throat flexing- _

Church is seeing stars when he closes his eyes, his body leaning forward while the hand that once supported him moved to join the fingers in Tucker’s hair. He has both hands in dark curls, thighs threatening to close around Tucker’s head. 

Tucker’s tongue is underneath the shaft, laid flat against the smooth skin. He hums once more, sending pleasant vibrations through his boyfriend’s body.

The heat was overwhelming, flooding Tucker’s senses in every way possible while his brain simply focused on breathing. He lets his head bob in slow up-and-down movements, teeth barely grazing the sensitive skin below them. The sensation draws another sound from the recipient; dark, sultry and fucking  _ hot  _ are the only words Tucker could think of to describe it. 

Hands on Church’s cock twist upwards when Tucker’s head would lift, then downwards when he lowered. It was the perfect rhythm, in its own inexperienced way. He felt the tip breach the back of his throat— barely there, but definitely present. He forces his mind to focus on  _ breathing, breathing breathing—  _

Perfectly slender thighs suddenly close around Tucker’s face like a trap. He’s just an inch short of the root when he’s pushed lower by a pair of skinny hands. Church has a vice grip in his hair when he releases a deep groan of pleasure from his throat. 

_ Oh my god, he came down my fucking throat-  _

_ Okay, wait— this is fucking amazing, what the hell. _

__ Initially, when they first got together, Tucker thought he’d  _ hate  _ the taste; he believed it’d be bitter and disgusting and just downright  _ unpleasant.  _ And, okay,  _ yes,  _ it doesn’t taste  _ great.  _ But it was…. different. 

He couldn’t taste much, considering it was all down his throat. But when Tucker squeezed Church’s thigh to get him to loosen his hold around his face, Tucker could  _ definitely  _ taste it pulling off. His eyes are fucked up, closing as his vision grows bleary from the pressure. He rests his cheek against Church’s inner thigh, with a stupid fucking smile on his face. And suddenly, he can’t get rid of the image of Church riding his face with those pretty thighs on either side of Tucker’s head. 

He felt only one of Church’s hands in his hair, and assumed the other was being used for support. When Tucker opened his eyes, his smile turned into a full toothy grin with half-lidded eyes, showing  _ obvious  _ triumph. His neck leaned forward, giving the tip a soft kiss before looking back up at his spent boyfriend. 

“Oh my  _ god, Tucker-“ _

“Did I do okay?” His words are a little slurred, but otherwise coherent. 

“God, you’re fucking  _ stupid and I hate you-“ _

Thankfully, Tucker’s almost completely fluent in the language of Church, and he knew  _ damn well  _ Church didn’t hate him at that very second. 

“I’m guessing I did pretty goddamn well.”

“Don’t get cocky-“

Poor choice of words, because Tucker’s face is impossibly bright with that stupid grin of his.

“Oh  _ grow up-“ _

__ “So will you ride my face next time?” 

Church sputters, face heating and his left eye twitching. “I’ll fucking  _ end you.”  _

Tucker slinks his body forward, arms bracketing Church’s body to the bed. He’s just a few inches from Church’s face, the man in question sinking back as a natural response to Tucker’s advancements. 

“Is that a yes?” 

Church could only glare while his cheeks tinted brighter. Tucker tilts his head to the left in the form of a silence challenge. In retaliation, Church brings his knee underneath Tucker’s body before letting his leg apply pressure to Tucker’s neglected member. A hiss slips from his mouth, bod curling in on itself as the pressure is gone just as quickly as it came. He rests his forehead against Church’s sternum, groaning pitifully in hopes the pressure will return. 

“Maybe. If you’re  _ good.  _ Didn’t expect you to want something like that, though.” A cruel smirk takes over Church’s face, an open door to his emotions. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ why wouldn’t I? Your legs are so fucking  _ pretty,  _ Church—“ his words catch in his throat, almost like a hiccup. “They’re fuckin’ smooth and perfect… God I love them-“ one hand drags downwards, then squeezes the muscle in Church’s thigh possessively. He massages slowly, a strangled groan garbling from his lips as he did so. “Fuck, I’ve never been this hard in my  _ life.”  _

__ A muffled whine slips from within Church’s chest, barely suppressing the return of his neediness. 

_ God, leave it to Tucker to be a fucking sap- _

__ “Fuck, dude, you’re so pretty it  _ hurts-“ _

_ Fuck, I think I like praise. A lot. But I’m not telling him that shit-  _

__ “God you keep looking at me like that— like you fucking  _ want me,  _ and I—“ he’s rutting against Church’s thigh, body practically  _ begging  _ for some kind of friction. “—And I don’t think I can take it, Church-“ again, he’s choking on his words and Church is trying to figure out when this got so damn  _ real _ .

Tucker increases his movement, groaning in rough breaths as he ruts harder, harder  _ harder- _

“Fuck,  _ fuck-”  _ He looks up, dark brown eyes blown wide as they bore into Church’s green ones. And god, Church can’t take it either. Tucker was fucking beautiful and he  _ hated it.  _ Hated how easily Tucker wormed his way into his pathetic little heart. Hated how much Church actually trusted him. Hated how  _ warm  _ Tucker could be, with that beautiful body and those impossibly heated eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Church—“ His hand slides up Church’s body; up, up up to his tight chest. Tucker’s giving a slow, gentle squeeze as his hips cant forwards against a creamy thigh. And Church felt like he should do something-  _ anything,  _ to lessen his vulnerability. His heart was pounding a thousand miles an hour with anxiety, because he could damn near  _ feel  _ that four letter word on Tucker’s tongue. 

“When you walked back into my room after the shower you took the day we drove back to the dorms— do you even know how fucking  _ good  _ you looked?”

He didn’t. Because he was fucking exhausted that morning after waking up at five in the morning for the long drive, as well as stressed about his father leering around the corner somewhere, out of prison. 

But Tucker knew. 

“My hoodie was falling off your shoulder, showing off my bite marks on your body, and you were so  _ beautiful-“ _

Church surged forward, effectively shutting Tucker up with his own mouth. His hands come up to carry a dark face from within his palms, thumbs brushing round cheekbones. He’s kissing so bruisingly it’s damn near painful, but Church couldn’t care  _ less,  _ because he has a handful of  _ Tucker.  _

  
  


And it hurt. It hurt so goddamn much to hear those words from Tucker, because Tex  _ never  _ praised him. She preferred degrading; insults and harsh physical contact. And for whatever reason, Church had grown absolutely addicted to the treatment. But in doing so, he forgot what it was like to be  _ loved.  _ Loved, and wanted and appreciated. And right now, Church thinks he’s too emotionally unstable to try and stomach somebody actually wanting to kiss him because they  _ like him.  _

_ Fuck, I don’t even like myself half the time, what the hell is happening to me- _

And Tucker’s kissing back so hard it should be impossible. His hands have come up to cup his boyfriend’s neck, gentle yet possessive. He’s moaning into the kiss, melting into Church’s naturally cold hands as he’s begging to have his heart  _ frozen solid  _ in those hands of Church’s.

And-  _ fuck, he’s- no, fuck I can’t  _ deal  _ with this— _

__ Church can’t fucking deal with Tucker being  _ honest.  _

__ When Church pulled back from the kiss for air, he leaned his forehead against Tucker, closing his eyes and quietly murmuring soft praises as Tucker chased down his climax. His hands find Tucker’s thighs as he ruts like a dog in heat, soon feeling Tucker bury his flushed face into the crook of Church’s neck. 

  
  


When they came down from their high, Tucker was passed out with his head on Church’s chest. But Church couldn’t fall back asleep; his mind was running in all directions, asking a million questions. Church has his hand in Tucker’s hair, mindlessly toying with it as he laid on his back with his eyes glued to the ceiling. 

_ Why the hell was he being so honest? _

__ The emotional rambling sent Church for a loop, leaving him to try and grasp the reality of their relationship.

Which, by the way, was heavily based on arguments and pointless bickering. And as soon as shit got serious, Tucker  _ had  _ to make a shitty joke. 

But not this time. 

And Church had a feeling he was definitely going to deny everything he said this morning, if Church tried to bring it up. Which he won’t. 

The biggest question on his mind, however, is whether or not Tucker’s serious about  _ them.  _ He knew the moment they met that Tucker was gonna be dangerous as hell. He  _ knew  _ that Tucker flirted too damn much and liked  _ women  _ too damn much to ever even consider their relationship serious. 

  
  
  


But Church could fuckin’ hope, couldn’t he?

  
  
  


  * ••



__

Two hours later, when the two were awake and showered, Church didn’t bring up Tucker’s insistent rambling, and neither did his boyfriend. 

However, Tucker  _ did  _ bring up Church’s phone call with his sister. 

“She wants me to come see her old military buddies,” Church had said with obvious irritation in his voice as he sat at his desk with a pair of pliers in his hand. Tucker sat in their ( _ holy shit, it’s literally our bed) _ shared bed, playing a mindless game on his phone as Church worked on his project. “I don’t really wanna deal with it, but I promised her I’d see them tomorrow after class.” 

“What’s wrong with seeing them? War buddies are  _ cool.  _ They always have some wack ass story that has like… a 23% chance of being true.” 

“Her buddies have known me since I was 3. They all went to high school together, and joined the military together. They treat me like I’m twelve.” He rolled his eyes, despite knowing Tucker couldn’t see it with his back turned to the other man. 

Tucker’s face formed a grin. “Yeah? So that means they probably have embarrassing stories about you, right?”

“You’re not coming with me just to gossip, jackass.” 

“Oh come  _ on,  _ it’ll be fun!”

“Nope.”

“Please?”

“ _ Nope.”  _

__ “Dude, we get out of class at the same time, it’d be perfect!” 

  
  


The gears in Church’s head start to turn. He stops working to think it over, weighing out the pros and cons of having his boyfriend with him and simply showing up with no backup. 

He decided he liked his odds better if he had some backup. 

“ _ Fine.  _ You can go with me. But  _ don’t  _ be an idiot. These guys are weird as hell, and the last thing I need is for their weird to rub off on  _ you  _ of all people.” 

Tucker made a silent fist pump of success from behind Church, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t even worry about it, Church, I’m the king of  _ smooth.” _

  
  
  


  * _••_



  
  


He absolutely was  _ not  _ the king of “smooth”.

But, to be fair, Carolina’s friends were  _ not  _ merciful. 

Most of Carolina’s friends had already retired from the military. They all lived and grew up in the dusty state of Texas together, so when they heard Carolina was back they all drove out of Texas and all the way to Indiana to see her. Church hadn’t seen any of them in at least 6 years, and as a 19 year old (almost 20, holy hell), that’s basically a third of Church’s life. 

“You haven’t changed a bit!” 

Lloyd was the first Tucker met. He noticed the milky-white in one of his eyes, as well as a harsh scar across it. Church gave him the run-down on who was who before they showed up to a park (much bigger than the one in Tucker’s hometown) in the center of the university. The park had several tables under a massive canopy, ice still clinging to the air even after the end of Christmas break. 

He knew they all went by weird nicknames, so trying to track and file the real ones as well was difficult to do without the faces for reference. 

But now, Tucker can see this one-eyed brunette was “York”. 

“I’m literally a foot and a half taller, what the fuck do you mean.” His voice is flat with hands shoved into jean pockets, hunched over in his own little form of protest. 

“Well  _ yeah,  _ but you still look like you hate everything.” York’s smile was contagious, Tucker learns, as he watches the brunette ruffle Church’s fluffy hair. 

_ He doesn’t seem so bad. Kinda hot, actually.  _

Evidently, York had something with Carolina, as Church explained it. And Tucker could see it, after just three and a half minutes being in York’s vicinity.

Carolina sat at the same bench as York, a big, gentle smile settling on her features as she watched her brother and York interact for the first time in years. 

“And who’s this?” York tilts his head towards Tucker, that dopey smile never faltering. Tucker realizes he’s smiling, too, and he decides York’s his favorite without even meeting the others yet. He reaches his hand out with a grin, eyes bright at the sight of a potential friend. 

“Lavernius Tucker, at your service,” he says once York shakes the offered hand. He snorts in response, eyes crinkling in something that can only be described as happiness. 

“Where are the other jackasses?” Church asked with a crooked eyebrow, sitting across from his sister at the worn, frosted bench. 

“The twins should be here soon, and Wash said he might be a little late. I think Maine’s coming in with Wash.” 

“And C.T?”

C.T was the only one of the bunch Church really clicked with. She didn’t treat him like a child like the others had; in fact, she was the youngest of their squad in the army, and was often treated as the baby herself. She grew sick of it, and when she met Church she made  _ sure  _ she didn’t do the same to him. 

Carolina smiles at his question. “She’s coming, too. I think she got a ride with Wash.” 

York came back with Tucker at his side, arm on his shoulder like they’ve known each other for years. 

_ Figures the two biggest flirts on this stupid planet would get along. _

__ “Dude! Did you know this guy got his  _ eye blown off??? _ ”

Carolina grinned, wide and careless at the two men. “Oh  _ really?  _ Because I’m pretty sure I saw what  _ really  _ happened-“ 

“ _ Lina,  _ love of my life, please-“ 

“A cat he found in an ally of a war zone scratched him when he tried to pet it, and the rest was  _ history.”  _ Her face sported a wicked smile, and she was obviously pleased with herself. 

York drops himself onto the bench Carolina had been occupying, groaning dramatically as he dropped his head onto the wooden table. “ _ Carolinaaa,  _ why do you do this every time?”

“Because you lie about it. Every time.” She smiles softly, patting her partner’s back in mock-sympathy. 

Tucker took his seat beside Church, hiding a snicker as Church could only glare into the distance. 

  
  


But that’s where the “smooth” ends. Everything went downhill when the twins showed up. 

Specifically, the mayhem that was Brittany; or South, as they seemed to call her.

At first, it was a big hug-fest. The twins had Carolina and York in a massive group hug, effectively emphasizing their long distance from each other (although Tucker noticed the blonde girl was a little less enthusiastic about the hug). 

Brittany and Brandon were the easiest for Tucker to remember, solely because they were twins with similar names. And Tucker was  _ definitely  _ going to remember South. 

_ Jesus Christ, that woman is freakin’ gorgeous- _

__ “Oh my god, Leonard?” North notices Church first, a loving smile on his soft features. The man in question only looked at North with an incredulous look, wary of how damn  _ nice  _ North always was and always will be. 

_ How can someone with PTSD like him still be that fucking nice?  _

“Yes. Hello.” His words are dry like the cold air around them, Tucker raising an eyebrow at the arrival of the blonde twins. 

He noticed South fittingly had a warm, black leather jacket with dark, ripped jeans to match it. Her boots were steel-toed with a wedge, promising to hurt like a bitch if used as a weapon. She had several piercings in her ears, with one in her left eyebrow. Her blonde locks were highlighted with a bright pink, with the hair swooping to the right side of her face. The left was shaved neatly to a buzz, with an odd design buzzed within the hair. 

Her brother, on the other hand, was the opposite of his twin. Despite the scars (much like his sister), he looked practically harmless. His eyes were a gentle, promising blue, while his hair remained soft without any significant style. He had a jacket similar to Souths, only in a dark purple with white fur lining the hood. His jeans were clean and obviously pressed, a stark contrast to his sister’s shredded pair.

When they introduced Tucker, South was quick to tease. And she was  _ relentless.  _ Church had forced back the red tinting threatening his cheekbones, choosing to ignore her with only a growl to respond. Tucker, on the other hand, had a harder time ignoring her, and didn’t realize she was toying with their conversations. 

They spent about twenty minutes exchanging stories and catching up, as well as York and North trying to get a few words out of Church. York quickly realized it was no use, and decided to try getting to know Tucker instead. 

He didn’t know why, but he  _ really  _ liked York. He was kind, yet playful and mischievous. They both resonated well together, and had way too much fun exchanging high school stories. 

Halfway through York explaining his first blind date (which had Carolina  _ fuming),  _ the sound of shoes crunching in snow approached them. South looked up, and grinned wide when she saw C.T, Wash and Maine. 

Tucker’s jaw  _ dropped  _ when he saw the massive man beside what Tucker assumed to be David, or Wash as they referred to him. The other man had to be Matt, Tucker thought time himself. 

_ Oh my god, he’s like- seven feet tall— _

__ Maine had Wash’s hand held in his much larger one in an easy hold, his face completely unreadable. Tucker noticed he had more scars than any of these soldiers put together- and Tucker could only see his  _ face.  _

Washington, he noticed, looked fucking exhausted; like he suffered from possible insomnia. And judging from his time in the front lines, he probably  _ did  _ have insomnia. 

Wash had a gray and yellow hoodie on, oddly matching his hair. It was simple, yet looked pretty damn good on his frame. 

His freckles, though… Tucker loved his freckles. They splashed Wash’s face like a constellation, with a deep scar slashed across the bridge of his nose. Tucker realizes his left ear is torn, almost like an alley cat. His hair was dyed blonde, the sides turning a silvery gray. Deep, dark blue eyes held harsh circles underneath, proving Tucker’s insomnia theory. 

_ Okay, do I just have a thing for dudes who don’t fucking sleep? Because he’s fucking beautiful- _

__ And behind them was a small, curvy brunette girl. She was fucking adorable, but clearly seen some shit judging from the look in her eyes.

_ Okay, that must be Connie- _

She sees Church, and couldn’t stop the knowing smile spreading across her round face. Church smirked to himself, the only positive reaction he’s had since he and Tucker arrived in the first place. He stood up, letting Connie come up and hug him for the first time in six years. And, hilariously, she only went to the lower half of Church’s sternum. 

“Jesus, what have they been feeding you? You’re like- six feet tall, Leonard.” She chuckled when she pulled back, offering a fist bump. He bumps back, tilting his head to the side with a smirk. 

“I’ve eaten a lot of kids. Some baby elephants. You know, the cute ones. Really helps with your height. You should try it some time.” 

  
  


They spent the next hour and half catching up, and the group decided they actually  _ liked  _ the boy Church brought with him. Tucker surprisingly fit right in (despite absolutely  _ fearing  _ South), and Tucker really couldn’t see why Church loathed seeing them so damn much because they were the most positive group of people he had ever met. 

Maine was the hardest to get to know. He was quiet, and rarely spoke. He knew about his throat; Church explained that he was mute due to an injury on the battlefield ( _ “He was shot how many times in the throat???”),  _ but he could tell Maine at least  _ wanted  _ to contribute to the conversation. He noticed he spoke mostly in purrs, growls and grunts. Wash understood him perfectly, and it seemed like North did too. He was a big dude, bigger than any other person Tucker had ever seen in person, and Tucker struggled to keep eye contact with him. Maine’s expression was dark and unreadable, and it was clear that it was simply his resting face. 

Overall, Tucker liked this group of people. While he listened to their stories, he noticed they spoke of two people in particular; a guy who went by Florida, and a British man who used the name Wyoming. He wasn’t 100% positive, but he believes the two might be dead. Carolina seemed to speak of them with a distant look in her eye, despite the smile on her worn features. 

“Oh hell, and he used to do this  _ thing—“  _ York was grinning so wide it had to fuckin’ hurt. “—with his  _ nose.  _ God that guy was so funny.” 

“His knock knock jokes got damn old, though.” South adds with a small smirk. “The guy had one after  _ another.”  _

“What? Those  _ never  _ got old!” York laughed out his words, teeth bright and overjoyed as he thought back on the memory of his lost friend. 

“Do you guys remember that time Florida got his ax stuck in the sergeant's boot? The man lost a whole toe because of it!” Wash was cackling as he spoke, the whole table laughing at a distraught and  _ furious  _ sergeant, Florida paying  _ dearly  _ for his mistake. 

“Oh my  _ god,  _ he had to run until his legs damn near fell off. That shit was  _ good.”  _ It was York who spoke this time, face red from the cold and the flush of pure happiness. 

Church laid his head on Tucker’s shoulder, huffing quietly as the ex-soldiers continued story telling. Church had nothing to add to their conversation, as usual, and decided he was gonna sulk in his own irritation. 

As usual. 

  
  


Tucker smiled inwardly to himself, resting his temple onto the crown of Church’s hair, hand sneaking out under the table so it slid into Church’s hoodie pocket. 

  
  


The gesture went unnoticed, save for Carolina’s perceptive eyes. 

  
  


  * ••



  
  


Two more hours pass before Carolina gets a strange call. 

She had told the group she’d be right back, then stood roughly eight feet from everybody to try and figure out who contacted her. 

But Church knew. He  _ knew.  _

Carolina didn’t tell her friends about their father being out of prison. Not yet. She didn’t want to ruin something so good in her life with her own problems, so she shelved it away for later (as she tends to do, much like Church). 

But her face the moment she heard the southern drawl was a dead giveaway, and Church suddenly felt his blood boil as he watched his sister on the phone. The others were distracted with each other, too busy laughing and enjoying one another’s company. But Church— Church could see it in Carolina’s eyes. Could see the mixed emotions; anger, frustration, longing, and sickeningly,  _ hope.  _

__ He still had his head on Tucker’s shoulder, but he suddenly felt a small squeeze around his hand in the pocket of his hoodie.

_ Ah. So he knows, too.  _

Church watched as his sister’s expression transitioned from confused, to anger, and then as it settled on desperation. And knowing his sister, Church expected that she was buying whatever B.S it was that their father was trying to sell her. 

The laughing and giggling slowly drew to a stop, eyes suddenly heading Carolina’s way. York notices her expression, and suddenly the emotion of worry replaces the joy that once accented his pretty smile. 

“Lina? Everything okay?” York calls from his place at the table, while Carolina spares the group a glance with the phone still to her ear. She gives a curt nod, then lets her eyes avert from her friends. 

The hand Tucker held suddenly gripped him like a vice. 

When the phone call ended, Carolina’s gaze turned to her younger brother’s, who hadn’t moved his eyes off his sister since the phone call started. 

“What did he-“

“He wants to see you, Leonard.” 

Carolina returns to her spot on the bench, between York and C.T. 

“Who wants to see him?” York asks, face contorted with confusion and concern. 

“I’m  _ not  _ doing it—“

“Wait- who, Carolina?” He asks again, and it was obvious the rest of the group was concerned, too. The look in their eyes said it all. 

Carolina glanced at the brunette, then let a soft sigh slip from her lips, her breath visible in the cold air. “Our father. He was finally released from prison a while ago.” 

The table is dead silent. 

Wash is the first to fidget; he remembers Doctor Church. Remembers his cold stare, the way he looked at the blonde with menacing eyes behind those glasses. He was never at the Church household for long, preferring to have Carolina over instead. 

__ That’s how the whole group felt, really. 

“I’m sorry,  _ what?  _ Are you— and he called you? Can he do that?” Wash breaks the silence, all eyes trained on the redhead. 

“I’m not really sure. Probably not—“

“What the fuck did you tell him, Carolina?” Church’s eyes narrow like a predator, head off of Tucker’s shoulder and glasses slightly crooked on his nose. 

“I told him if he wanted you, he’d have to get to you himself, and that I wouldn’t be his messenger bird.”

“Oh, that’s just  _ perfect!” _

“What the hell did you expect me to say?! I was under pressure, Leonard!”

“I don’t know? How about, ‘gee, sorry pops! But your youngest son is dead!’  _ Or,  _ you could’ve used, ‘fuck off!’ It’s  _ that fucking simple!”  _

“Leonard-“

Church stands up from his position at the bench, hand pulling away from Tucker’s hold as he did so. The group of ex soldiers stare at Church wide-eyed, unable to throw in any input of value. 

“Wait, I’m sorry—“

“ _ No,  _ you don’t get to be  _ sorry!  _ You knew damn well who that was before you even answered it. You should’ve  _ ignored it,  _ Carolina! Did you even block him afterwards?”

“I… well, no, but-“

“What the  _ fuck  _ is wrong with you? You give him too much of a chance!” 

“And you don’t give him  _ enough  _ of a chance!” Carolina finally snaps, on her feet to join her brother in the stand off. 

“ _ Enough?  _ I don’t give him enough of a chance? Are you fucking serious? He  _ hated  _ us, Carolina! He left us like the coward he is! That bastard would rather  _ work in his fucking lab than ever look me in the eye!” _

He’s fighting tears; for the first time since Tex, he’s fighting off  _ real  _ tears. 

And then he was gone. He had kicked the table, startling York and Wash. The twins exchanged a nervous look, and Maine was on fight or flight reflexes by the time Church was out of sight. 

Carolina called after him, but Church chose to ignore her. She tried following, but York had stopped her, telling her he needed space. 

And he was right. Church was at his worst when he was angry. 

And  _ fuck,  _ Tucker was caught in a war zone, with no ammo. 

“...He didn’t- he didn’t  _ really _ hate you two, right?” Tucker’s voice was quiet, but somehow felt shattering against the silence of the group. 

“...I don’t know, Tucker. I really can’t answer that.” Carolina had sat back down, hand holding her head up by the forehead and her left eye threatening tears. York had his arm securely over her shoulders, C.T rubbing her lower back. 

Tucker just… couldn’t understand that. His world was so goddamn different compared to the Church siblings. 

_ Their world might be different, but I can at least make it different for the better.  _

__ “I’m gonna talk to him.” Tucker stood up, and North was already trying to stop him.

“Please. He needs someone to talk to who’s not involved in this situation..” Carolina’s voice was desperate, and Tucker wanted nothing more but to do something,  _ anything  _ to make it sound less like she needed help, and more like she had her life together. 

  
  


  * ••



  
  
  


It took a while, but he eventually found Church. 

He actually just went back to the truck, which had been parked pretty far from the tables at the park. He didn’t know it, but Church had a fleeting thought of driving back to the dorms, but he had decided against it. 

If this were Tex, he would’ve done it without a second thought. 

Church was in the passenger seat, legs back on the dash and arms shoved into the pockets of the large hoodie he wore (the very same hoodie he wore when he and Tucker met, with torn-out drawstrings). Tucker was at the driver’s window, giving a soft knock to signal his arrival. Church didn’t react, save for a harsh eye roll. Which roughly translated to  _ Get in, but don’t talk. _

Tucker opened the door of his truck, taking his spot in the driver’s seat. When he shuts the door, he pulls out his keys and starts the engine. Church gave him a quirked eyebrow in response, but relaxed when he realized Tucker’s only trying to get the heater going. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, something Tucker wasn’t used to. He always had to fill the void when moments were too quiet for him, whether with a joke or some form of flirting. But right now, for the first time in his life, he can’t think of anything to fill the void with. 

But surprisingly, it was Church who broke the silence. 

“He’s coming. I know he is. He’ll get what he wants.” 

“You make it sound like he’s on his way to kill you, dude.” 

“You don’t fucking understand. You have a  _ normal fucking life.  _ I’ve spent years just trying to forget this guy ever fucking happened. He has  _ no  _ family left except Carolina and I, and he’s gonna come crawling back to us.”

Okay, the low blow to Tucker’s “normal” life was  _ not  _ cool, and Tucker had to fight back a retort for that comment, but he decided he needed to pick his battles. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I just- I’m sorry—“

“Don’t fucking apologize. I’m sick of getting people’s pity for this situation.” 

Tucker visibly deflates, his head leaning back against the seat with a noticeable thud.

“I’m trying to  _ help you,  _ dude.” 

“Have you ever thought that maybe I don’t need any fucking help?”

“Clearly you do if you can’t even handle someone  _ trying to in the first place!” _

_ Ah. So here’s the hard part about commitment.  _

__ Understanding Leonard Church was impossible. But trying to offer him any guidance or help was even more so. He had always prefered to bite at the hand that feeds him, eager to prove he can fix things on his own. And Tucker could  _ not  _ deal with that. 

“Not everyone is out to get you, Church.  _ I’m  _ not out to get you.” 

Church shifts uncomfortably, sinking lower into the soft, worn fabric of the car seat. His head tilts to the car door, leaning his temple onto the handle. 

Then, with the tiniest amount of volume as possible, he mumbles.

“I know that.” 

Tucker lets go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, muscles relaxing from their tense take. 

“...I don’t know what it was like in your household, but I can still  _ try  _ to understand. But I can’t help you if you lock me out, Leo.” 

Church’s heart squeezes miserably tight at the nickname. His eyelids fall closed, his cat-brain trying to process his next chosen words. 

“...I don’t know what he wants with us. Or why he wanted to talk to me specifically. But I feel like he’s only gonna use us as a safety net, because nobody else will have his back. Tucker, I think my life is  _ finally  _ on the right track. I don’t want him fucking that up for me. And not just me, but Carolina, too.”

Tucker takes a moment to mull over his boyfriend’s explanation before responding. 

“You know, typically I’d tell you to pretend like nothing’s happening and ignore your issue. But… I feel like you shouldn’t run from this, Church.” 

“Fuck, I  _ knew  _ you were gonna say that.” He groans in irritation, dramatically hanging his head over his chest. 

“Trust me, I hate the idea too. The last thing I want is that guy screwing you and your sister over again. But I just… kinda feel like you should talk to him?” It comes out more as a question rather than a statement, the tension in his voice evident.

“Carolina would say the same thing,” he muttered darkly, eyes opening again only to glare at the dash in front of him. “...But you’re right.” He pulls his hands from the pocket of his hoodie, then slides them into his coarse hair. He grips the strands in frustration, growling softly to himself as he does so. 

“Okay.  _ Okay.  _ I’ll fucking talk to him. Just… just not today. I have a huge test this Friday and I need to focus on that.” 

Tucker nodded, looking over at Church for the first time since he showed up. 

_ God dammit, I hate how fucking pretty he is.  _

Church was obviously emotionally exhausted, but his face was still just as pretty as it was when Tucker first woke up to it that morning. 

He decided commitment may not be as bad as it seems. 

  
  
  


  * ••



  
  


Church decided he didn’t want to rejoin the group. He texted his sister, explaining that he was going back to the dorms with Tucker to work on his project, as well as the fact that he’d talk to their father next week. 

Carolina, in turn, was concerned for her brother’s decision to get in contact with Dr. Church. Although that was her hopeful end goal, she didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. 

She had texted him several times, asking  _ are you sure? Do you want me to go with you? _ Of course Church wanted Carolina with him, but their father made it clear that they wanted to speak with Church  _ alone.  _ He had promised to do the same with Carolina once he was done. 

On a happier note, Church had noticed he was making positive progress with his project, and expected to finish the small drone by hopefully the end of the month. And if he wasn’t studying for his exam on Friday, he was holing up once more to work on his project. 

And by the  _ gods,  _ Church was nervous. More nervous than he had been in his entire nineteen years of life. He tried working on his project to take his mind off the subject, but he also spent time with Tucker to forget, too. And thankfully, Tucker was annoyingly distracting. 

Throughout the week, he helped Tucker with his homework or got some drinks with him at the Red Shack. He tried his damndest not to lock up for a week again, even if he was damn tempted to. 

Then Friday came; he took his exam, and for the first time in the school year, he was  _ not  _ feeling great about that test. 

Church had promised to talk to his father on Saturday. 

“Dude, you need  _ sleep.” _

“I’m fine, Tucker. I’m just a little stressed-“

“A  _ little?  _ Dude, your fucking eye bags are about to hit the floor.” 

“Okay, that’s just  _ uncalled for.” _

__ “Take a nap, Church.” Tucker’s laying on his back in his own bed (for once), his offer  _ so damn tempting  _ when Tucker had his shirt off, with soft and comfy sweats covering his legs. 

He just looked so comfortable, and Church was tired as hell. It was past midnight, and Church’s project looked less and less intriguing. 

Church heaves an over the top sigh, putting down his pliers from where he sat at his desk. He pushes his swivel chair back a few feet, letting his legs drag him to his desired destination. The shirt he wore is peeled off, dropped to the floor without a care. His body flumps beside Tucker on his bed, one arm across his boyfriend’s lap. Tucker smiles, hand dropping to run through black strands beside his thigh. 

“I’m so not ready to deal with his ass tomorrow.” 

“Technically, you mean today. It’s past midnight.”

“I’ll fucking end you right here.” 

“No you won’t.” Tucker smiles and turns his body, effectively pulling Church to his chest. His boyfriend’s disgruntled, but accepts the affection anyway by burying his face into a warm neck. 

“It’s gonna be fine. Didn’t Carolina say she already arranged everything?”

“Yeah. He should be here by morning. I think I’m gonna meet him at the same park as before.”

“Where’s he flying in from?”

“Texas. Our hometown. It has a prison, and that’s where he’s been.” Church pulls the blanket over them, his naturally cold body getting the best of him as he visibly shudders. 

“...Hey, you never told me what town you used to live in.”

Church shifts in his spot before sighing heavily against Tucker’s neck (effectively shooting sparks down Tucker’s spine). “A place called Sidewinder.”

Tucker’s hold tightens, just a little. “Yeah? My dad went to high school there.” 

Church nodded against a dark neck. “Your dad told me while we were over for break. I think they were friends.” 

“Small world, huh?” 

Church, with no energy left to speak, could only nod, and let sleep drag him into the abyss.

  
  
  
  


  * ••



  
  
  


Church was a  _ train wreck  _ the next morning. 

His stalling spiked the moment he woke up. He took three times as long to brush his teeth and a much longer-than-necessary shower (without Tucker, which made him  _ pout.) _

Today’s classes for Church were in the afternoon, while Tucker’s were in the morning. So Church had no back up, and was a panicked mess in their dorm room. Tucker had kissed him, deeper than necessary, trying to ground Church back to earth. 

_ You’ll be fine, call me if something goes wrong and I’ll get to you. I can walk to class, so take my truck to the park. Ya don’t wanna go somewhere you can’t drive away from. _

Tucker’s words rang in his head like a school bell; repetitive, sharp and impossible to ignore. 

_ I have his truck; I can drive off whenever I want.  _

New words ring this time, a constant reminder that  _ he has control.  _

  
  


__ He put on a NASA long-sleeve with worn out jeans, deciding against his usual hoodie. He takes another deep breath, his anxiety catching up with the entire situation.

_ It’s literally been ten fucking years and I still wanna deck his face.  _

Whether or not he can keep himself from going apeshit is entirely up for debate, and he’s absolutely okay with that. 

However, he was  _ not  _ prepared for the real thing. 

When Church arrived, his father was already sitting at a table, his specs reflecting light in a way that kept his son from seeing his irises. 

The same irises Church bore. 

He felt like throwing up. Or flipping the table. Whichever came first. His ten years of repressed emotions came bubbling up all at once, and it all drained to his hands. Fists ball up in a form of repression. 

“What do you  _ really  _ want?” Church refused to sit, opting to stand with his arms crossed over his thin chest. When his father looked up, the light no longer reflected as a shield to hide Dr. Church’s emotions. His eyes were clear as day, and he looked  _ terrible.  _

Ten years led up to this. 

_ To fucking nothing.  _

“Leonard,” he starts, in that southern drawl that damn near gives Carolina and himself PTSD. A voice so unique and impossible to mishear. 

You couldn’t recreate that voice, no matter how hard you tried. 

“You don’t get to call me that. It may be your name, but I’ve made it my own. Your ass can just call me Church.” Like always, his glasses are crooked, and unfortunately have a striking resemblance to his father. 

Church really was a spitting image. 

“...Church. I’m sure you must be confused-“

“ _ Confused?  _ There’s nothing  _ confusing  _ about how I feel right now. What the  _ fuck  _ made you think it was okay to come back to us? You shouldn’t even legally be  _ allowed  _ to do that!” 

His father lets out a heavy sigh. His grey jacket heavily resembled his mood, and Church could tell prison did a number on him. 

_ Good. As it should have. _

Dr. Church drags his hand over his face from under his glasses all the way down to his chin. “I came here to apologize—“

“Oh, that’s just  _ perfect!  _ You’ve come back to beg for forgiveness?” He’s sneering without mercy, those fists balling up even tighter. 

“To  _ you  _ specifically.” 

The fists loosen, just a smidge. 

“ _ What?  _ To  _ me?  _ When you did Carolina so much worse? You owe her even more of an apology than me! Your ass was in jail before I could  _ really  _ get a good memory of you. Carolina? She remembers  _ everything.”  _

The ex-scientist examines his son closely, his blink slow and not-quite-there. The air is thick with tension, damn near suffocating at this point and Church wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand to be in it. 

“I’m going to ask just… one thing of you.” He takes off his glasses and sets them on the table in a neat fold. Church feels his shoulders begin to tremble, the world baring on them starting to crumble. 

“I want you to hear me out.  _ Please.”  _

Church eyes him, his anger boiling to near-uncontrollable. His fingers twitch, on edge like his skin is crawling at unfathomable speed. 

He wants Church to hear him out? He really believes he deserves that right? Church’s green eyes screw shut in frustration, his hands reaching up to dig painfully into his raven hair. It was ridiculous to think about, but Church knew Carolina would give him the first shot at speaking. 

Church is not Carolina. 

“You expect me to— you’re a fucking  _ fool  _ if you think you get the chance to “explain” yourself. Nothing you ever did after mom died can be explained!” He yanks his hands from his hair, closing into fists once more. The rage floods faster, faster faster like a tidal wave crashing into oblivion. 

His father is prepared, however. He knew this would happen. Church had always bottled his emotions up, and he suspected he ended up doing that for the rest of his life. 

And now he’s uncorking that bottle. 

“You fucking  _ left us!  _ Carolina had three jobs at sixteen just so she could save up to move out when she was legal! With  _ me!  _ You fucking drained her of any purpose!” His fists finally come down, aggressive and  _ violent  _ against the wood of the park table. “You made her feel  _ worthless.  _ You made  _ me  _ feel worthless! You ignore your own kids because you can’t get over the death of their mother? You ignore your own  _ confused kids  _ who can’t understand why their mother’s fucking  _ dead,  _ because you’re too caught up in your own little world? You think that’s just…  _ explainable?”  _

__ The reality is evident in Dr. Church’s eyes. His hands are in his lap, slowly gripping his pant legs. 

He knew it was coming. He did. But fuck, his son is just too emotional of a person for his own good. 

“We needed you! Fuck, I was just starting the third grade! I had no idea what the fuck was going on, I only knew that my sister was almost never home and I was left to sit in my room and  _ think!  _ And hell, you’d think I would’ve made a friend or two at school. But! Oh!  _ Somebody had to fucking move houses every year and a half!”  _

His father flinched, only for a fraction of a second, but Church caught it. 

“You’re gonna get your fuckin’ chance to talk, but only because I promised Carolina. But right now? You’re gonna have to deal with my shit  _ first,  _ to make up for some lost time.” 

Dr. Church examines his son carefully, picking apart every emotion and expression displayed on the face oh-so-similar to his own; analyzing, he’s analyzing and categorizing everything he sees. 

So far, he sees rage, frustration, and fucking  _ emptiness.  _

“...Did you just- not want us? When mom died? Was it just mom you wanted?” The fists at the table soften, that familiar voice crack acting up as he spoke quieter this time. 

There had been a few people in the park before, but the moment Church began to yell, the children were ushered out of the playground in haste. Church could care less, honestly. 

But that question seemed to do something to his father; a crack in the armor, almost. 

“That’s- not true, Leonar-“ 

“ _ Church.”  _ He seethes, teeth bared like the animal he felt like.

“...Church. That’s not true, it’s  _ not.”  _ He sighs heavily, then runs his hand through his short hair. “I just- I made a mistake-“

“A mistake? You made a  _ mistake?  _ You made a  _ fuck ton  _ of mistakes, you idiot! Jesus, why am I even here—“ he pulls away from the bench, hands dragging against the wood to leave small splinters into the sides of his hand. He hisses to himself before growling and turning his back to the man who claimed to give a shit. 

_ God, I wish Carolina or Tucker were here— _

“Several,” his southern accent is a drawl, dragging out the  _ e  _ sounds in his wording. “I made  _ several  _ mistakes. But I didn’t care for either of you any less.” 

Church refuses to turn back around. His arms wrap tightly around his body, a defense mechanism. 

“Would it  _ kill you  _ to say you “loved” us instead of using shit like “care” to replace it? Because you never fucking did when ‘Lina and I were kids.” His voice is laced with sarcasm, bitter and angry and  _ sad.  _

“I—“ his words catch in his throat, and by  _ god,  _ can he really not tell his own son he loves him?

Church catches on the hesitation, hands gripping his own forearms tighter. 

“I fucking knew it. I told Carolina this was a waste of fucking time.” The heels of his palms come up to dig into his eyes, a groan of frustration leaving his lips. His father grips his pant legs tighter, his calm demeanor hiding his anxious emotions. 

When Church finally rotated to face his father, his face screams  _ I’m fucking tired, and want a nap _ . Church inhales through his nose, slow and careful as he feels cool air flood his lungs. 

“I’m only gonna ask you this once… if you don’t answer, I’m walking  _ right here and now.” _

That calm demeanor persists, but his son knows better. Dr. Church slowly nods, giving Church the “okay” to ask away. 

  
  
  


“What the  _ fuck  _ did you cook up in that lab that put that target on your back?”

  * ••



Tucker couldn’t focus on the lecture. 

Well, he has less focused than  _ usual.  _

Church was constantly on his mind, and whether or not he was emotionally okay (which he knew damn well he wasn’t). His professor’s words were going in one ear and ejected out the other like a space hatch.

The lecture was roughly two hours, and it was  _ grueling.  _ Tucker had a test for it the next week, but that was the least of his worries when it was finally over. He grabbed his bag, pushing past people as he left the room and not caring for the wide-open front pocket as he trekked through students. When he finally got back to their shared dorm, he’s internally hoping Church was already back. 

He knew better than to hope for that, though, not when Church hasn’t seen his father in ten years. 

Tucker didn’t have another class for roughly an hour, which left him time to think. Thinking was the  _ last  _ thing he wanted to do, so he texts Kai to let her know he’s coming over if she’s at her dorm (it’s noon, who parties at noon? Of course she’s at her dorm).

She already had beer out for the both of them by the time Tucker arrived. Kai had smiled, offered him a can, then sat at her bed and patted a spot beside her for him. 

If Kai was being perfectly honest, she was proud of her best friend for holding a serious relationship for once. Although she hilariously questioned his taste in men, she was still  _ proud.  _

_ Little Lavernius is growing up! _ she had thought, with a dumb smile on her face, when she found out they were officially together (Tucker texted her basically right after they fucked for the first time).

“So, what’s up this time? Get in a cat fight with the cat?” She snickered, taking a sip of her beer.

“Oh hell, I wish. Fighting with Church is like clockwork.” 

“Then what’s up?” She brushes a pretty curl from her shoulder, leaning on one hand and tilting her head to signify that she was all ears.

“...Church’s dad came down to see him.” 

Kai chokes on her beer, hand squeezing at the can as she coughs on the bitter liquid. Tucker’s eyes widen as he leans over to pat her back.

“Holy- fuck, I haven’t choked on anything since  _ Donny- _ Okay, hold on, what the  _ fuck?” _

Tucker jerks back in surprised at her words, his initial reason for being here completely forgotten. “Wow wait, you sucked Donny’s dick? The guy from the pizza place? I thought he was gay?” 

“ _ Not the point, Tucker.”  _ She clears her throat, then couldn’t help the smirk crawling up her face. “Okay. He told me he was bicurious. He  _ did  _ in fact end up being gay, but I helped him with that. Man is  _ packing.  _ And he’s a nice human being??? We’re still friends, we get drinks sometimes. Now what the  _ fuck  _ is going on?”

“Okay okay- just-“ he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Church said his old man had a ten year prison sentence. I guess that ten years is up? Anyway, he texted Church— I have no idea how he got his number?— during the break saying he’d be coming home. Long story short, Church agreed to talk to him today at the park.” He takes a deep breath, then a large swig of his beer. “I’m just- I dunno?? I don’t know why I care about this so much, but I’m kinda freaked out, Kai.” 

She takes a moment to assess the situation, letting his words seep in before answering. “I think you’re worried because you actually  _ like  _ this guy, Tucker. Which, I’m sure you already knew. You’re not used to caring about somebody other than yourself.” She lets a grin slip, which earned her a short, half hearted glare. “I can’t believe he’s back, though. That’s… insane. My big brother told me if their dad was ever released, he’d probably just pretend his kids never happened, and start over. I guess he was wrong.” She twirls a curl of rich brown hair distractedly. “I’m worried for him, though. And his sister. I don’t really know them personally, but I at least know they’re both good people.” 

“I think he’s gonna talk to Church alone, and then Carolina, and I guess both of them together afterwards. I don’t really get it, but I’m sure there’s a reason for it.”

“How long has he been talking?”

“He left right after I went to class, so… a couple hours? He said he’d text me when he comes back to the dorms, and I haven’t heard from him yet.” He takes another drink of beer, eyebrows knitting in thought before an idea pops into his brain. 

“Hey. What else do you know about his family? Or just… him in general.”

“Tucker, you two are dating now. Don’t you think you can ask him those questions?”

“It’s not that easy, Sis. He’d probably rather bite my head off than tell me anything.” 

“So nosy.” She smiles, her words playful. 

“How could I  _ not  _ be? I have no idea what I roped myself into falling for this guy, but it’s definitely way more interesting than  _ my  _ life. It’s like a reality show, dude.” 

“ _ Oh,  _ so you’ve officially realized you’ve ‘fallen for him’?” Her smirk is impossible to hide, her dimples evident in the gesture. 

Tucker gives a hard glare. “I’m  _ not  _ using the ‘L’ word, Kai.” 

“What’re you so afraid of? Too cool for love?”

“ _ No-  _ I just- okay you know what? Shut up.” 

And then Kai’s  _ laughing.  _ Because she’s a terrible human being, to Tucker. 

“What did you expect to happen, Tucker? My big brother always tells me you either break up, or get married-“

“ _ I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”  _

“You’re emotionally constipated!” It’s said in a sing-song tone, light and cheery despite the obvious truth in her words. 

“I am  _ not.  _ I’m handling this relationship just fine, thank you very much.” He sets his beer on the end table just for the simple gesture of crossing his arms. 

“Handling? Tucker, you don’t ‘handle’ a relationship,” she snorts in a fit of giggles before continuing. “You  _ dork.  _ When are you gonna realize you love this guy? You’re so obviously into him! He’s literally  _ all  _ you ever talk about when we hang out, it’s like I’m third wheeling!” She’s still smiling, no malice in her tone. 

And  _ hell.  _ Tucker hated it when she was right. But he’d rather bust his head through a brick wall than admit that he  _ loves  _ someone romantically. 

“I swear to  _ god,  _ Kai, I’m gonna-“

His phone goes off mid-sentence; Church’s text tone. Tucker’s moving like lighting, pulling his phone from his back pocket and desperately sliding the screen open. 

“I’m gonna guess that was him-“

“Shut  _ up.”  _

Tucker’s eyes are scanning the words, but there really wasn’t much to read over. 

  
  


_ Come back to the dorms.  _

__ “Everything okay?” Kai leans over, brown curls falling forward as she does so. 

“I dunno? He just said to come back to our dorms. I guess I have to go?” 

“Oh lord. Good luck, dude. Oh, are we still up for drinks this Saturday?”

“What?  _ Duh.  _ Of course we are.”

“Help me pick a slutty outfit?”

“Oh,  _ hell yes.  _ Only if you pick mine, too, though.” 

Again, he’s given another grin that establishes the agreement. 

When Tucker gets back to the dorms, he hears something break right before he opens the door. 

_ Sweet lord, please don’t let this guy kill me- _

__ When he opened the door, the place wasn’t wrecked like he had expected. The glass victim that was shattered against a wall was thankfully just one of their mugs. Church is standing where he threw the cup, a sharp scowl resting harshly on his features. 

“Oh hell,” he takes a deep breath through his nose, blood racing because  _ he looks so good when he’s angry. _

“Hey, what happened? Did you  _ really  _ have to break that?” He takes a few cautious steps forward, the situation reminiscent of the night Church’s project blew up in his face. 

Church’s head snaps in his direction, a sharp growl slipping from his throat. 

Tucker’s against a wall in seconds, being flipped over and having his entire front shoved against the surface in even quicker time. 

“Okay,  _ wow-“  _

Church has his body flushed against Tucker’s, that same growl coming back to haunt Tucker  _ forever.  _ He has Tucker’s arms held behind him and his teeth bared in challenge. 

“I’m not usually one to complain about being pinned to a wall, but what the hell is going on?” And  _ fuck,  _ Tucker’s having to fight off a stupid boner because he suddenly wants those  _ ridiculously  _ sharp canines Church so proudly sports deep in his neck. 

_ What the fuck?? Isn’t that like… a furry thing?  _

No. It’s not. He’s just an idiot. And hasn’t fucked anybody with canines like Church. 

“ _ Stop talking.”  _

And that voice could get Tucker to do  _ anything.  _ He feels hips behind him grind forward aggressively, and Tucker can’t help but let his eyes widen at the sudden realization that Church is  _ hard as fuck.  _

“Church… talk to me dude. If I can’t speak, then at least you-“

“I’m just  _ really  _ pissed off, okay? Got some info from the old man that I didn’t fucking like, and now I wanna either kill somebody, or  _ fuck  _ somebody-“ he proves his point by rolling his hips again, sending jolts down Tucker’s freakin’ core. 

“You  _ know  _ I’ve never done that before, right? I-I dunno if I can handle it-“

“ _ You?  _ Not handle something related to  _ sex?  _ Is this even my boyfriend I have pinned to a wall?”

There was no teasing in his tone; no sarcasm, or hints of any kind of  _ positive  _ emotion in his voice. 

The man was genuinely fucking confused and annoyed. 

And okay, yeah, the sudden dominance was doing things for Tucker. Sue him. 

“Dude, I’m literally not capable of bottoming for you when you’re like this— I can tell you’re  _ not  _ gonna be gentle and I haven’t-“

“ _ Fine.  _ I’ll just use your  _ mouth.”  _

Oh. 

_ Oh.  _

“Oh shit— okay, yeah, do that-“

Church is grabbing Tucker by the belt loops to rotate again, the manhandling going straight to Tucker’s dick. 

“We’re still gonna talk about this when we’re done, dude-“

“Shut up for  _ two seconds.”  _ His mouth is on Tucker’s in seconds, nipping and biting in a way he’s never really done before. 

_ I dunno what Dr. Church did to piss off his son, but thank god he did-  _

__ Tucker’s hands are on a thin chest with a dire need to  _ touch touch touch.  _

When Church pulls back from Tucker’s lips, it’s only to move himself to his warm neck. His canines are ghosting over dark skin, threatening to break it. 

“Do it- fucking bite me already, jackass,” he hates how fucking obedient he’s acting, but this was something he had never experienced before and he knew damn well Church was about to fucking deliver. 

A flush creeps up Church’s neck before he speaks. “Like I’d give you that kind of luxury.” He nips at Tucker’s jaw to prove a point, the action enough to draw a moan from his boyfriend’s lips.

“Now get on your knees, Tucker.” 

  
  


It hadn’t been easy taking Church like that. Deep throating had already been a challenge, considering Tucker had only given one blowjob his entire life. But having his face used like that was… far more complicated than he anticipated.

Tucker didn’t mind the abuse to his throat, honestly. It sent a special kind of thrill down his back that he’s  _ never  _ experienced with anybody he’s ever slept with. He just had this sudden need to  _ please-  _

By the time Church was finally finished, tears had pricked at the corners of his eyes. But Tucker was  _ not  _ gonna give Church the pleasure of letting them fall. 

Church was breathing heavily, a hand tight in Tucker’s curls. His anger was seeping out of his pours, leaving behind something else; something  _ pleased _ .

“Fuck, you’re a  _ dream,  _ Lav.” His hand loosens it’s hold in Tucker’s hair, voice suddenly fucking  _ soft,  _ a sharp contrast to his damanding words just moments before. 

Tucker never expected a simple nickname to make him melt the way it did. The hand in his hair falls to his face, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning into the physical contact. 

With his eyes, he’s asking  _ Did I do okay? _ And of course, Church has to praise him, because who wouldn’t?

When Church pulls Tucker back on his feet he presses him to the wall, gentler this time; almost like a slow dance. The thud against the wall was soft and barely there, with Church’s hands sliding up to massage at Tucker’s chest. He leans forward, burying his face in Tucker’s warm neck. 

“Dude? You okay? You just used me like a toy fifteen seconds ago and now you’re-“

Hot, wet heat slowly glides up from his jaw to his cheekbone. Tucker’s face flushes, and he’s realizing Church is  _ apologizing.  _

_ Just like the other morning- _

__ It was odd how Church expressed himself. But Tucker’s come to understand that you simply don’t question it, or Church will retract and never repeat the action again. And even though he’d never admit it, Tucker  _ loves  _ his odd little quirks that make Church  _ Church.  _

Apologetic kitten-licks to the face are definitely welcomed. Weird, but welcomed. 

“I just kinda used you for a second there, sorry,” he huffs indignantly against Tucker’s skin before letting his hands drop to his boyfriend’s belt loops again. His index fingers hook onto either side loosely, letting his hips lean forward and gently collide with Tucker’s. In doing so, he realizes Tucker’s completely soft. 

“Shit- wait, you’re-“ panic flashed through his eyes, but Tucker’s quick to put that fire out. 

“I literally fucking came in my jeans like a middle schooler. It’s fine, dude. I loved every fucking second of it.” 

A wave of relief crashes through Church’s features like a tsunami. He lets out a heavy sigh, like the weight of the world was being lifted from his sharp shoulders. 

“I’m taking a fucking shower.” He pulls back from Tucker reluctantly, but he’s stopped by a hand on his wrist. 

“Lemme join?” He tilts his head, like a golden retriever asking for a treat. 

God, Church’s heart  _ fluttered.  _

_ So I can fuck his throat with no issue, but if he looks at me I get anxious?? _

“Yeah, whatever. Do what you want.” 

This brings a pleased smile to Tucker’s face, who pulls Church into his warmth just to kiss him stupid. And of  _ course,  _ Church has to melt at the gesture. 

_ Because why wouldn’t I? Bastard’s got me wrapped around his damn finger, and I bet my ass he doesn’t even know it.  _

The kiss turns sultry in seconds. Tucker has a hold on Church’s waist, then a handful of ass right afterwards. 

“Hey, idiot. We still gotta make it to the shower.” Church snips when he pulls back for air, a fake glare in his eyes. 

Tucker could only smile, letting the older teen drag him to the shower. 

  
  
  


  * ••



  
  
  


“He made a what??”

“An A.I. Artificial Intelligence.” 

“What, like in Halo?”

“...Kinda.” 

  
  


It’s the next day, and Church is at his desk. He’s tweaking something, an audible  _ click click click  _ every time he turns the needle nose. Tucker’s at his own desk, doing a chunk of homework Church forced him to finish.

“What’s so bad about that?”

“...He did it to try and bring back our mother.”

Tucker drops his pencil in shock. “I- he  _ what?  _ Hasn’t he seen Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood? That shit doesn’t end well.” 

“Not like that, numbnuts,” he snorts in amusement, another soft  _ click  _ filling the room. He smirks at his work, the improvements and patience paying off. 

“It was more like he was trying to bring back her memory… or conscience. It’s hard to explain.”

“Is that why you were so pissed when you got back?” The words come out somewhat timid, worried he might cross an emotional barrier. 

“Oh yeah, definitely. Our mother was the only thing I wanted, but I knew she’s  _ dead.  _ You can’t change that.” He shook his head, needle nose gripping a wire to pull out. 

“Is that what he wanted to talk to you about? Why he spoke with you alone?”

Church’s head raises sharply, eyes wide in realization as he stops his movement with the needle nose. “Oh fuck,” he whispers to himself, looking back down and blinking rapidly. “Oh hell, I never gave him the chance.” 

“ _ Dude.” _

“ _ What?  _ I was under pressure, okay!”

“You know you’re just gonna have to go back and talk to him again, right? You’ve basically fucked yourself over.” 

“I’ll  _ fuck you over this desk  _ if you don’t shut up! I’ll figure something out!” 

Tucker snorts in laughter, feeling his cheeks grow warmer as he laughs. 

“Stop laughing!”

“ _ Why?”  _ He could only laugh harder, dropping his head onto his desk.

“Oh my god, it’s not that fucking funny-“

“ _ Dude,  _ you planned to see him only  _ once  _ but you fuckin’ forgot to see him for the reason you were going to let him talk in the first place!” He turns his chair to look at his boyfriend’s back, a stupid grin on his face. “ _ Now you have to go back!”  _

And he’s laughing. Again. 

And if someone said Tucker’s laughter makes his stomach twist in a happy knot, he’d call you a fucking liar and push you off a bridge. 

The fact that Tucker could find humor in his situation was a nice change of pace. Most gave him pity, or that stupid  _ I feel sorry for you  _ look in their eyes. But  _ no.  _ Tucker thinks it’s  _ funny.  _

And by god, is that the reason he fell for the idiot. 

“I will fucking  _ end you life-“ _

“Empty threats!” His boyfriend chides with a grin, one arm resting on the back of his chair while his head lolls to the side, temple on his elbow.

And he knew. Church  _ knew  _ he shouldn’t turn his chair, but he did. And regrets it immediately.

It’s the dimples, Church thinks, when he looks at Tucker ridiculous grin.

_ And the stupid way his head tilts like a dog.  _

“Hey, if you’re done moping, could ya help me with something over here? Physics is a  _ bitch.”  _ And that smile is going to be the death of Church, because even if he bitches the whole time he’s doing it, he’s still  _ doing it,  _ and will continue to do whatever Tucker asks him to do. 

Because he’s just  _ that  _ in love with the guy, and he hates it, with every fiber in his body. 

  * ••



  
  


“ _ You just left?! Are you serious? _ ”

“Oh my  _ god.  _ If you had been there, you would’ve left too. I’m going back to talk to him later this week, okay?” His sister is yelling through the phone. Clearly distraught and probably on the verge of murder. 

“ _ We haven’t seen him in ten years, and you don’t even let him say what he needs to say?” _

__ He was pacing in his dorm room, Tucker out with Kai for a few drinks. Church stops his movements, hand gradually curling to a fist at his side. 

“Are you- are you taking his side?”

“ _ What? No! It’s just—“ _

“You’re taking his fucking side.  _ Again.”  _

“ _ It’s not like that, Leonard. I just think-“ _

__ “You think  _ what?  _ That I should give him a chance? What the hell is with you? Ever since we heard he’s out of prison, you’ve been making excuses for him!”

“ _ He’s our dad!” _

__ “Fuck—  _ is  _ he? I couldn’t tell, with the whole “child negligence” going on in our lives!” 

“ _ Leonard, a lot can happen in ten years-“ _

__ “You worked three jobs at sixteen because of him! He did you more harm than me, and yet you’re okay with him coming back into our lives? I can’t  _ fucking  _ believe you right now!”

There’s silence on the other line, dense enough to sink right through the floor Church stood on. A few moments felt like hours, before Carolina let out a heavy sigh. 

“... _ You’re right. I’m making excuses for somebody who doesn’t deserve it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was taking his side.”  _

The fist unfurls, albeit slowly. 

“..And I’m sorry I yelled at you. This whole situation is just absolute shit.” 

And it was. It really was. Church was  _ this  _ close to believing his life was finally on the right track. 

He was a fool, and he knew it. 

  * ••



  
  


“So you’re gonna go back to park, then?” 

Church sat on the small counter of their dorm, a bowl of Frosted Flakes in his hands. He nods, Tucker cleaning his bowl in the tiny sink they shared. He sat in a pair of soft, blue pajama pants with the same black tank top he always wore to sleep. 

“Yeah. I don’t really have a choice. Carolina will probably slit my throat if I don’t, anyway. I didn’t let him say what he needed to, just asked for answers to my own questions” 

“Which is perfectly reasonable. I mean, he did you and your sister pretty wrong.” 

“I  _ know!  _ But Carolina was pissed I didn’t let him say shit. God, I was just so  _ angry  _ when I saw him.” He sets the cereal down on the counter in favor of running a thin hand through his sleep-mussed hair. 

Tucker takes the few inches between them in stride, standing in front of Church before placing his dark hands on his boyfriend’s thighs. “You just have to talk to the guy one more time, and then you can forget he happened, dude.”

“Fuck- I hope you’re right. It’s only been a few weeks since he got back and it’s already  _ hell.”  _

“Eh, it’ll blow over. Trust me, drama gets tired of  _ itself.  _ It’ll settle.” He pecks Church’s forehead, that stupid smile making Church’s gut squeeze again. 

  
  
  
  
  


_ Right. Just one more time. And we’re done. _

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Okay. So I have an apology to make. 
> 
> One of the commenters was just so kind in the last fic, and I had set to finish this June 5th. That obviously didn’t happen, so I apologize. Things are hectic where I am so I’m hella busy haha. But I’m so glad you guys enjoyed the last fic. And... yeah. There’s gonna be a third one. I wasn’t planning a third, but here I am. Willing to destroy myself. I think the third will be the last. Unfortunately, that won’t be out for a WHILE, because I have a pretty big Grimmons project I’m working on as well as a Maine/Wash project. Again, thank you all for the support. I hope to get my hands on the StarWars community one of these days, too, with some StormPilot. So look out for that too. 
> 
> Also! I plan to have the reds and Caboose more involved with this story in the last installment!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the read. Until next time, I guess.


End file.
